Something Wicked This Way Comes
by Sadesco
Summary: Part 3 of the War Stories Saga. Sam and Dean find themselve in Reno fighting a Demon hell bent on torture. While Sam comes to terms with his new powers, Dean refers to Hannah in secret to keep the hunt on track. Rated M for Adult Content and Language DWOC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Something Wicked This Way Comes.**

**328 – Days **

**Portland, Oregon – 3:37am**

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face feeling three days of stubble and the deep etched lines of a night of heavy drinking. He sat naked on the edge of the bed, the sheet draped over his hips just to keep the evening chill off his groin. The euphoria of drunkenness was steadily giving way to the dull ache of a solid hang over.

The previous night's revelry represented the first downtime that he and Sam had taken in weeks and Dean had been hungry for it. Since fighting Asbeel in Rhode Island, Dean and Sam had been hunting almost non stop. First there was the possessed cattle farmer in Montana, the phantom hitch hiker through Idaho, the Skin Walker in Washington and most recently the reaper in Portland.

It had gotten to the point where Dean was almost dreading answering any of Bobby or Ellen's calls because all it would do is give them new quarry to worry about. On their travels Sam had become increasingly more remote, going for days on end without even saying a word. He seemed isolated and everything that Dean tried seemed to only exacerbate the issue.

Last night he had dragged Sam to a bar in the hopes that he would let down his guard for a few hours and enjoy himself, but after only an hour he complained that he had a headache and was going back to the hotel room. Dean had debated whether to go with him or not, and looking at the corn coloured locks that were spread out on the pillow beside him, Dean wished that he had.

Dean had vowed shortly after making his deal with the demon that he was going to get laid this year…a lot. After all, he had his entire life to try and fit into one year and he was going to make damn sure that was what he did, but having picked up the bubbly blonde last night, Dean wondered if this was a vow he could keep.

Without question Dean had enjoyed their little tryst from a physical perspective, but the whole thing had left him strangely unfulfilled. She was indeed a pretty little thing, with long golden blonde hair and sparkly brown eyes, but as he had held her small tanned breasts he had wanted them to be full with creamy skin and a rose coloured nipple and when he had fisted his hands in her hair, he had wanted a handful of auburn tresses, not the corn coloured strands that were really there.

The truth of the matter was that, in a week or two, Dean would be nothing more than a shadow of a memory for this woman. If he was lucky she might even remember his name, but that would be all. She hadn't really known him, she wouldn't miss him when he was gone and in all likelihood, their whole encounter would turn into and anecdote that she shared with girlfriends when they had one too many margaritas.

Dean didn't have much time on this world left and he needed to know that his leaving it would at least make and impression on somebody. Sam was so distant lately that Dean wondered if his passing would even affect his brother. Even though they were travelling together, Dean felt lonely. He had hoped that his fling with Amy or Annie or Emily or whatever her name was would help alleviate that, but it only made him feel worse.

Dean stood up quietly pulling on his jeans and boots, making a little noise as possible so as not to wake his slumbering partner, but still feeling some of the affects of the alcohol made him clumsy and he crashed around the darkened bedroom until he had all of his clothes on.

He considered for a moment leaving a note for the girl; a thankyou perhaps or an open ended 'call me sometime' note with a fictitious phone number, but neither idea sat well with him, so he left without so much as a backwards glance.

Sam had driven the Impala back to the motel they were staying in so Dean and 'Angie'; that was her name…'Angie'; had taken a cab to her place. Looking around the darkened suburban street of Portland, Dean suddenly realised he had no idea where he was. He couldn't have even called for a taxi if he had wanted to because he didn't know what street Angie lived on, so he decided to start walking towards what looked like a main road and perhaps he would get lucky.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and started walking, his mind turning from the blonde he had just left to the auburn haired beauty who occupied more and more of his thoughts nowadays. After he had left Newport, he had called the Doc a couple of times to see how she was healing. A week later he had called again and Adam had told him that the Doc had taken Pat Shaughnessy back to Boston and would be gone for a little while.

Dean had called her mobile, leaving a few messages, but she hadn't gotten back to him. Occasionally she would send him abrupt one or two word text messages, but for the last week he hadn't even gotten that. When he was feeling his worst, he would call her phone from some anonymous payphone, just to listen to the rich voice on her voice mail talk to him.

Dean was beginning to believe that the Doc had no particular regard for him. He couldn't help thinking that she had looked out for him in the same way that she looked out for all of her foundlings and now that he no longer needed her help she had moved on. Dean felt heartsore as he walked towards the bright streetlights that he hoped heralded the main road.

He normally didn't form attachments to people. It wasn't in his training or in his nature, but despite it all he had formed an attachment to the Doc. The only other people that he had known with the same level of intimacy were Sam and his father, and the more he considered that the more he wondered how well he actually knew either of them.

In an unguarded moment, the Doc had pulled him into her mind, where he hadn't just seen her memories he had lived them. He felt the love she had for her family, he felt the horror and grief of their death, he felt the almost crippling remorse and he felt her desperate need for redemption.

As he walked, Dean replayed all of his memories with her, over and over in his mind. She had promised him that she would help him, had all but vowed that she would find him a solution and where had she gone? Anger flared within him, unbidden yet hot and volatile. She had made the promise and then disappeared. He was reasonable, he understood that she couldn't travel with them, but what would it have cost her to return a phone call? Check in once in a while, like she had made him promise to do?

As he walked Dean's gut churned. A heavy night of drinking and some sickening thoughts made him feel slightly nauseous. He looked down the mostly deserted road, and in the distance he spotted a gas station, the neon of the sign blaring like a beacon in the darkness surrounding it.

He headed towards the gas station, kicking at a plastic bottle that had been discarded on the sidewalk. As was often the way when his thoughts went down a troubling path, Dean ended up playing Devil's advocate for himself, where one half of his mind would think something and the other half would bring up all the arguments against it. It often left him more confused but it was a process that he couldn't seem to stop.

As the arguments circled in his head like angry vultures, a third idea sprung into his mind. What if the reason that the Doc hadn't called back was that she was injured, or perhaps worse, what if she had been killed? He felt sure that Adam would have called him with that kind of news but the doubt started to eat at him, ravenously. They were in a very dangerous business at a very dangerous time. Their lives were almost perpetually at risk, and the Doc didn't have the lifetime of training that Sam and he had.

Dean's stomach churned again in protest and his chest started to ache too as if his heart were being twisted in his chest cavity by some unseen hand. He was trying not to jump to conclusion, but he had to fight the impulse to grab his phone and call Adam immediately.

As if answering his impulse, his phone buzzed and vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed at it with impatient hands and opened it without looking at the caller id. He was almost sure that his worst fears were about to be confirmed.

"Hello" he said tensely

"Are you all right?"

The warm sincere concern curled around him as the accent announced who it was. But Dean had to ask just to pacify the heart that was thundering in his chest.

"Doc?"

"I was going to leave it later to call, but you had me really worried."

"I had you worried?" said Dean slightly incredulously

"I felt you in…" her voice seemed to falter slightly as she tried to articulate what it was "pain." she finished, but the tone of her voice showed that she was clearly unsatisfied with that banal description.

"I'm fine Doc." lied Dean, and the pause in the conversation told him that Hannah didn't quite believe him.

"Where have you been anyway?" asked Dean unable to keep the anger from touching his voice "I left you some messages, and I didn't hear from you for a month."

"Didn't you get my messages?" the Doc said trying to defend herself.

"A three word text message Doc doesn't really tell me much, and what about last week not a thing from you?"

Dean hated the way he sounded as he spoke, it reminded him of a spoilt child rather than a grown man, but his relief, his anger and some emotions that he couldn't quite identify bubbled inside of him making it difficult to remain rational.

As the Doc spoke she seemed slightly taken back at the vehemence in Dean's voice.

"I was in London last week, and I didn't have global roaming on my phone…I'm sorry."

Dean wanted to kick himself for the contrition that he heard in her voice. He hadn't meant to jump down her throat like that and in truth he was just so grateful that she was alive, and that she had bothered to call him at all.

"I was worried about you?" he said feeling suddenly shy. "What were you doing in London?"

"I was visiting an old Professor of mine" she said and Dean could hear the smile in her voice. I appeared that his admission of concern had earned him forgiveness for his earlier off hand remarks.

"I was hoping that he could help us with your little predicament. He is one of the foremost scholars on theology and demonology and if there is a loophole, he'll find it."

Dean felt like such a bastard for rousing on her. She hadn't been in contact with him because she had flown to a foreign country to try and help him. But something about that didn't sit well with him. A request like that could have been made in a letter, or over the phone or, in the age of the paperless office, on email.

"You flew all the way to England to ask him that?" asked Dean, praying that she would not take exception to his question.

"No not just that." she said pausing for a long moment. "It was Michael's birthday last week. I always go home on his birthday."

For a moment Dean was confused thinking of the Mike that they had rescued and ultimately lost in Rhode Island, then he realised the Doc had been referring to her brother.

"I'm sorry Doc?" Said Dean, feeling all the worse for his previous thoughts "How old would he have been?"

"Thirty two." she said in a quiet voice and Dean felt the pain that was not his own course through him.

"You'll be glad to know" Hannah said abruptly changing topics "That the demons don't seem to have crossed the Atlantic. I checked with my Professor if there was an increase in reported demonic activity in the UK or Europe and he seemed to think that there was nothing significant."

"I wonder what that means?" asked Dean half heartedly. He wasn't sure what he wanted to talk to Hannah about, but demon activity was certainly not on his list.

Seeming to sense his reluctance to 'talk shop', Hannah changed topics again.

"How's Sam?" she said, her voice filled with gentleness.

"To be honest" said Dean sounding tortured "I don't really know. He hasn't really spoken to me lately. I try and get him talking but the more I try the more he backs off. I can't help wondering if I've made a terrible mistake."

"What do you mean?" asked Hannah solicitously

Dean slumped down onto a bench at the bus stop near the gas station. He had been walking towards it, but now he just seemed exhausted and all he wanted to do was stretch out along the bench and go to sleep as Hannah spoke to him.

"Doc it's like this power he got when he killed Jay is torturing him from the inside out. He's moody and quiet and all he wants to do all the time is sleep. I've tried talking to him about it, but it just seems to make him angry." Dean sighed heavily, running his hand through the tangles of his hair "I don't know Doc, I'm not sure bringing him back was the best thing for him. I just don't know what else to do?"

"Give him time Dean" said Hannah quietly "Sam has many more gifts than I do and I remember myself when I first got them. I couldn't be in a crowded room, because I couldn't filter out anyone's thoughts or emotions. I would get flashes and premonitions so randomly that I couldn't do anything about them and you experienced first hand how well I manage my Pyrokenesis. Well take away 2 years of training myself and imagine how volatile I was."

"I wish you were here" said Dean before he could sensor himself "At least you'd understand what he was going through. Maybe even give him some advice. I don't have a clue. Dad just didn't prepare me for this."

"I think I have well and truly burnt my bridges with Sam." said Hannah regretfully

"Don't say that Doc." said Dean, the idea making him feel miserable "Sam doesn't hold grudges"

"It's not that" said Hannah "At the cottage Sam and I made a pact that he would act as a check and balance for me and I would do the same for him."

"What?" said Dean, beginning to understand but frightened of the ramifications of what Hannah was saying.

"Well they say that absolute power corrupts absolutely." said Hannah, almost matter-of-factly. "If that happens, Sam and I will act on the agreement that we made. He knows, even if it is only subconsciously, that one day we may need to go head to head to resolve any problems that might arise and that will always make my presence difficult for him to tolerate. He started distancing himself from me, the moment I tried to knock him out."

Dean remembered with razor blade clarity, Sam turning the gun on Hannah and the look of total mistrust on his brother's face. Although he wanted to reject what she was saying, he knew the truth of her words and that saddened him more than he could have possibly anticipated.

"That's not going to happen" said Dean resolutely.

"Probably not" said Hannah, but her voice showed she wasn't convinced "Sam's got you, that's a good anchor to have."

"And if it was going to happen to you" said Dean trying to be logical "it would have happened by now, wouldn't it?"

He wanted to say something more to her, explain that she could use him as an anchor too, but he realised that unless she felt that way of her own volition, that they were probably empty words. After all, what was Dean to her anyway but some guy whose path occasionally crossed her own.

"Perhaps" she said wistfully, but Dean caught the presence of fear in her words and knew that the prospect of being corrupted by her powers troubled her deeply.

"Where are you now?" said Dean secretly hoping that she was someone nearby and he could go and talk to her in the flesh.

"New York" she said quietly "You?"

"Portland" he said feeling the hopelessness swell within him again.

"My God" she uttered in surprised "It must be the middle of the night there."

"Just past 4am to be precise"

"Oh Dean" said Hannah apologetically "I'm so sorry I woke you. I'll let you go so you can get some sleep. I can't believe I thought you were in danger."

"It's alright" said Dean rapidly, afraid that she would hang up "It's actually nice to talk to someone who isn't Sam, Ellen or Bobby. Talk to me some more."

Hannah paused for a moment as if assessing whether she had been as far off the mark as she had originally thought and then she began chatting away realising that Dean needed this almost more than he needed sleep.

She told him how the cottage had been transformed into Fort Knox, with the introduction of four mercenary friends that Adam had bought in. They had been told that a fanatical religious group had made an attempt on the books and that there was a fear that they would try again.

She told him how Pat had taken the same line back to his work in Boston and circulated to all the major libraries and university's that an informant of his had told him that they would be going after specific books. The security on all the grimoires that Hannah wasn't able to get at had been doubled; probably not enough to stop a really determined demon, but enough to be a serious impediment.

She also told him how Pat, Helen, Joel and Mario had all vowed to help wherever they could. When Dean asked about Emily, Hannah went very quiet and Dean had expected to hear that she had taken her own life just as Mike had, but Hannah explained that they had been unable to find her after returning her to Harvard. Hannah had sounded extremely worried by this, but Dean tried his best to alleviate her fears, suggesting that she ask Pat to use his contacts and resources to try and track her down.

Dean looked at his watch and realised that nearly and hour had slipped by as they had been talking. He felt better than he had in a couple of weeks and his spirits rose even as his hangover descended. Reluctantly he bid Hannah goodbye, getting a promise from her that she would check in regularly. Then he hung up and went into the Gas Station to find out exactly where he was so he could call a taxi.

As he waited outside the Gas station, he threw a hand full of aspirins down his throat and took a sip of the coffee he had bought inside. The coffee tasted terrible, but it was warm and liquid, so it made him feel slightly better none the less. About ten minutes later his taxi showed up and after depositing the bottom half of his coffee in the trash, he jumped in the Taxi and gave the driver the name of the motel.

The taxi raced across town almost completely unimpeded by traffic in its predawn journey. Dean stared out the window, going over what the Doc had said to him, thinking of ways that he might be able to help Sam until finally, the blinking sign of his motel came into view. The driver pulled into the car park and Dean gave the Impala the once over with his eyes before pulling some bills out of his wallet and passing them to the driver.

As quietly as he could, he opened the door to the room that he and Sam shared and seeing his brother still asleep in one of the beds; he crept in and stretched out on the vacant bed. No doubt Sam would be up in an hour or two, but he would get as much sleep as he could until then. Feeling a slight high from all the aspirin he had taken, Dean drifted of to sleep with a languid English accent filling his thoughts.

* * *

Sam sat with his back against the wall and his feet poking through the rungs of the banister. Mary Winchester sat a few stairs up from where Sam was sitting and smiled down lovingly at her son. They had been meeting for over three weeks talking and exchanging stories. Mary seemed to like it best when Sam recounted storied from his childhood. He got the impression that she knew most of them already, but she just liked hearing it from him.

The endless maze of rooms and stair wells, were less intimidating now, he had been coming here nearly every night since they had left Rhode Island and he was beginning to love this place. Because it now reminded him of his mother, all of the insane interconnecting staircases and corridors full of empty room had lost their sinister quality. Sam never ventured too far from the main stairwell, because that was where Mary was.

Every now and then the entity that Sam had begun calling Mike would show up. The creature had appeared to Sam in a couple of forms, but it seemed to favour the form of the young man who they had rescued in Rhode Island. As the creature rightly pointed out, Mike had taken his own life, so he no longer needed the visage.

More often than not it was just Mary who waited patiently at the bottomless stairwell. Sam looked forward to seeing her, she just sat and listened to him, offering him maternal advice or suggestions, but usually she just let him talk. Sam was thankful for it. When he was awake he felt so alone.

Dean was with him, but he hadn't felt as connected with Dean recently as he usually did. Their relationship had kind of gone off the rails since Rhode Island and Sam didn't know how to make it right, so he did nothing and just retreated further into the realm that he shared with his mother.

He inhaled deeply, letting the air out on a long sigh as Mary Winchester sat with him patiently.

"I don't know mom." said Sam "I wanted to go out and enjoy myself. I just feel so …"

There were no words for what he wanted to say. Every word he chose seemed to be such an inadequate choice.

"Different?" supplied Mary encouragingly.

"Sort of" said Sam "But it is more than that. I'm a 'chosen', whatever that means, and all I see when I looked at those people in the bar is that they weren't chosen. I know this sounds terrible but it kind of made me feel more important than all of those people. I know that my life is no more or no less valuable than any of theirs, but I couldn't quite stop myself thinking that."

"That's not terrible Sam." said Mary stroking a gentle hand over his hair "It is honest. The fact of the matter is that you are different and you are special. The harsh reality of this world is that some people will come into it and leave it without making an impact, and for others they can't help but make and impact. You are destined to make and impact Sam. I knew it from the day you were born."

Sam looked at his mother with pleading eyes. He wasn't sure that this is what he was looking for from her, but he couldn't quite bring himself to argue either.

"It is human nature to want all life to be sacred, everybody's lives to be equal in worth. But unfortunately they're not." continued Mary seeing the pained look on her son's face.

"Alright, think of it this way" said Mary her voice gentle "If you were at the scene of an accident and you could only save one of the two victims, would you save 'the mother of three' that is in the red car or the 'heart surgeon' that is in the blue car."

"I guess I'd have to say the heart surgeon." said Sam, unsure of exactly how he felt about this whole discussion.

"Why?" asked Mary patiently

"Because he can save other peoples lives." said Sam, feeling that was an unnecessary explanation.

"And by virtue of what he can do for others his life is more valuable that the 'mother of three'. It is a very sad reality Sam, but it is a reality none the less."

Mary Winchester smiled warmly at her son and air of pride making her jade eyes sparkle. "And you my dear boy, with all of your gifts and all of your powers have the potential to save many lives, just like the 'heart surgeon'."

Sam sat silent for a moment, as his mood shifted subtly from confusion to suspicion.

"Mom" he began his voice slightly shaky "I have to ask you something. It has been worrying me since you showed up and I wanted to ask you but…."

"Sweetheart" said Mary softly "You know you can ask me anything."

Sam looked at his mother now, as she sat with her blonde hair about her shoulders, her kind face looking down at him and her sincere green eyes. She was dressed in the white night gown that he had always seen her in and she looked somehow innocent.

"The yellow eyed demon showed me what happened on the night that you died." Sam began, watching his mother closely "when you came into the room and saw him, you recognised him…Why?"

Mary Winchester's face showed pain, but she smiled at her son in spite of it. Again she ran her hand over her son's hair and looked at him through eyes that were welling up with tears.

"I wondered when this would come up." she said on a drawn out sigh "To be honest, I', kind of glad that you asked. I really want you to understand Sam."

Mary Winchester took a long measured breath as if the pause allowed her the time to choose her words very carefully. "Your father and I had known each other in high school. We didn't really date until senior year, but I knew from that moment that he was the man I was going to marry. When we graduated, your father was drafted into the marine core and was sent to Vietnam."

Mary stopped for a moment and ran her hands over her night gown, smoothing the fabric over her legs in a measured motion. Sam had noticed that she did that when she was battling with her emotions and he realised that this was very difficult for her.

"Your father did two tours towards the end of the war. They were pulling the American troops out when your father's platoon was sent to escort aid workers out of some village in the rural provinces. While they did this they were attacked and your father was almost killed."

Sam looked at his mother with wide eyes; this was something that he had never known about his father, a side that he had kept silent on throughout their entire childhood.

"Your father was very badly wounded, but someone managed to carry him out and they sent him back to the states for medical treatment. The doctors at the VA hospital didn't think he was going to make it, but I knew he had to. I don't think I would have survived if he had died."

Mary sat slightly taller on the stair, pausing to compose herself. "I sat by your father's side day and night. They tried to make me leave, but no force on this earth could have moved me. I stayed there and I held his hand and I prayed to anyone who would listen. Nothing seemed to help" Mary nearly choked on the words as the memories of the pain at the time seemed to fill her.

"I got down on my knees and I promised god anything if he would only let your father live. But god didn't answer" said Mary a hint of bitterness tainting her melodic voice.

"But the yellow eyed demon did" supplied Sam guessing what had happened "You made a deal with him so that Dad would live."

Mary looked at her son, the guilt evident on her face "I just couldn't loose him then, not when our lives had only just begun."

"What did you promise him?" asked Sam as Mary dropped her eyes to the floor "What did you promise him mom?"

"I promised him anything he wanted" she whispered her eyes downcast. "I always thought he would extract his price from me. I never thought he would go after one of my children. I would never have made the deal if I had known."

Sam watched his mother, feeling both anger and sympathy at her situation. "Why did he pick me and not Dean?"

His mother looked up at this and cupped Sam's cheek a tear rolling down her face as she smiled at her youngest son.

"Because you are like me Sam." she said smiling at him with clear affection "Dean was always like John, even when he was a baby, I knew he would grow up to be just as stubborn and headstrong and audacious as John, but you Sam, you were like me. You were born gifted. I knew from the moment they let me hold you that you had inherited my family's ability. You never cried, but I always knew what you needed. You were such and intense little baby, when you looked at people it was like you were looking at their soul."

Sam looked at his mother feeling slightly confused "What do you mean your family's ability? Mom were you psychic in some way?"

Mary nodded her head slowly and watched her son's reaction. She had been psychic, not nearly at the same level as Sam, but enough to attract a demon's attention.

"The yellow eyed demon said that he hadn't meant to kill you that night. What happened mom?"

Mary smiled and this time it touched her eyes "When I saw him leaning over your crib and I realised who he was. I didn't really think, I just reacted and I attacked him."

Sam's eyes widened as he begun to comprehend what happened that night "You attacked him psychically and he fought back."

"I couldn't let him hurt my baby boy. Not for a mistake that I had made."

Sam's eyes welled with tears. He couldn't believe it. His mother had died trying to protect him from the evil that she had introduced into their lives. It felt like the plot of a Shakespearian tragedy.

"I am so sorry Sam." said Mary weeping quietly as she looked at her youngest son.

Sam felt heartsore as he reached up and embraced his mother. He was half way between anger and regret and did not know which way his heart was leading him, but at least now he understood why it had been him. A piece of the puzzle that had been tormenting him fell into place.

"Oh isn't this touching." said a voice behind them and Sam swung around, turning angry eyes on Mike who stood at the bottom of the stairs looking on at the private moment between mother and son without remorse.

"What do you want Mike?" said Sam through clenched teeth.

Mike's face changed from its usual pleasant to a mock frown. "What no 'Hi! How ya going Mike?'. Sam I'm hurt…where's the love?"

Sam stared at the young man impatiently, still with his hands wrapped protectively around his mother's slight frame.

"Don't try me Mike" said Sam his anger evident "I'm not in the mood."

Mike immediately looked contrite, but Sam new it was insincere. He accepted that Mike's presence was a necessary consequence of having his mother with him, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"I just thought you better know" said Mike shuffling his feet and doing his best impression of a school boy in the headmaster's office. "Beleth has sent Thammuz out to do his worst."

Sam looked at Mike his eyes narrowing on the young man "I'm not sure I know what that means Mike?"

Mike looked up at Sam holding his eyes "Since you destroyed Asbeel a few weeks ago, there is a new power struggle going on and Beleth is one of the players. If Thammuz can go out and recruit to Beleth's cause he will most likely win."

Sam took his hands from around his mother and sat down on the step so that he was now eyelevel with Mike. "Explain it to me Mike, who are these people?"

Mike took a heavy sigh and sat down on the bottom step

"Not people" he said slightly impatiently "Demons! Alright…Demonology 101. God's power is defined by one thing; how many people have faith in him. Well a demon's power is no different, but rather than doing things that illicit faith, a demon, by its nature, manipulates a follower into doing their bidding. The more successful they are as a manipulator, the more powerful they become in the hierarchy of hell. You get it?"

Sam nodded slightly and studied Mike as he continued.

"Beleth is one of the most powerful Kings of the second circle of hell and when the gate were open, Beleth decided to come out and play and he bought his enforcer Thammuz with him."

"Thammuz?" questioned Sam slightly.

"Yeah, one of his enforcers." repeated Mike with slight irritation "He isn't really a very powerful demon in his own right, but attached to Beleth, he is a formidable weapon."

"How so?" asked Sam

"Well he has a very affective way of manipulating people. He's thrown a few parties that you may remember…the Spanish Inquisition, Auschwitz, Cambodia."

"He manipulates people via torture." surmised Sam

"Give the man a gold medal." said Mike in a phoney game show presenters voice

"If he is that good at what he does, then why doesn't he make a go for power?" asked Sam, desperate to understand this world.

"Because once he has a person's allegiance he doesn't know what to do with it. He get's off on the torture part, gaining allegiance just means that the torture ends and he finds that disappointing. With Beleth though, he can pass on the converted and move on to the next victim without any bigger picture interrupting his fun."

"Sounds like a reel charmer" said Sam sardonically "Who's the other player in the power struggle?"

"I don't honestly know yet" said Mike with a shrug "They are playing it fairly cagey."

"Do you know where this Thammuz is?" asked Sam

"Yeah" said Mike with a smile touching his lips "Reno."

"Reno?" said Sam lifting his eyebrow in surprise.

"Makes sense doesn't it?" said Mike with a slight shrug "If you were a torturer looking for victims, wouldn't you be attracted to a place where people tend to torture themselves?"

Sam had to concede begrudgingly that it did make sense, even if it had come from Mike.

"This all sounds really nice Mike, but why should I believe you?" said Sam, his voice turning suddenly hostile.

"Oh come on!" said Mike exasperated "What do I have to do Sam? I've told you I'm a friend, I told you what Asbeel was planning, I bring your mother to you every damn night! What more do I have to do before you will at least trust me a little?"

"Tell me what you get out of all this." said Sam, his voice icy cold and disquietingly calm.

Mike looked at him with wide eyed surprise for a moment and then shook his head resigning himself to having to confess the truth. "You want the truth? OK, the truth is that currently I'm a little fish in a big fucking pond and each big fish that you get rid of, means one less big fish I have to keep in my sites. I'm doing all this for a little self preservation…sue me!"

Sam was surprised by the candidness of Mike's answer, but he wasn't sure why.

"Finally" he said with a smile in his voice "Something that I can believe."

"I got to go." said Mike, sounding disgusted. He didn't say farewell, he didn't even look behind him as he left he just disappeared into one of the shadows of a staircase.

Sam looked back at his mother, who had remained silent as she had listened to them talk.

"I believe him." said Mary quietly studying her son.

He smiled at his mother for the look of concern that was on her face. It was nice to know that somebody cared.

"Yeah" he said grudgingly "I think I do too. But even if he is lying, it's a lead and we have to go and check it out."

Sam leaned forward and placed a kiss on the soft skin of his mother's cheek.

"I'll see you soon mom, Ok?"

"Be safe Sam. Take care of your brother."

With that Sam willed himself to come awake, with his mother's voice ringing in his head. He had discovered that he could do this when all of Mike's weird and wonderful ways of exiting his dream state started to involve fighting large vicious animals, of throwing himself off high precarious places.

Sam felt the bed solid under his back and a destination on his lips. _'Reno'. _He looked over and to his surprise, saw Dean fast asleep in the other bed. He was still fully clothed but at least he was there. That would make their departure all the more expedient. He sat up deciding that he would let Dean sleep on while he took a shower, but as soon as he was finished he was going to insist that they hit the road to Reno.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Something Wicked This Way Comes.**

**328 – Days **

**Portland, Oregon – 8:42am**

Dean felt a hand on his shoulder gently nudging him. He was right in the middle of a very vivid dream that he was reluctant to leave but the hand was insistent and he the alluring smell of coffee was dragging him into consciousness.

He opened one of his eyes the merest amount and saw Sam, fully dressed waving a tall cup of coffee under his noise. Rolling onto his back he made and inarticulate noise to indicate that he was still alive, although as the pounding in his head started, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be.

"Hey" he said his voice gravely.

"Hey" replied Sam holding out the coffee "I figured you'd probably need this."

Dean looked bleary eyed between the coffee and his brother and smiled "Oh, there is a god. Thanks man." he said reaching out for the coffee, a picture of longing falling over his twisted features.

"I didn't hear you come in" said Sam sitting down at the small table and chair in the corner of the room.

"I got in just after four or so this mourning." Dean said taking a much needed sip from his coffee.

"Wow" said Sam smiling slightly "Does that mean that the super stud didn't get lucky last night?"

Dean looked at his brother over the rim of the paper coffee cup. He was surprised and rather pleased that Sam was talking to him reminiscent of the days before the war started.

"Bro, I got something, but I'm not sure it was lucky." he said with a mischievous smile curling her lips.

"What the beer goggles fall on or something?" asked Sam regarding his brother quizzically

"No" said Dean wistfully "She was really attractive. I don't know. It just doesn't seem to hold the same appeal as it did before. Doesn't quite scratch the itch if you get what I'm saying."

Sam smiled and nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't like Dean, he had a strong sexually appetite like his brother, but unlike Dean he wasn't able to just slake his thirst with anyone in a skirt, so the tune Dean was singing now, Sam knew all too well.

"Dean" Sam started watching his brother take another bliss filled sip of the tall coffee Sam had bought him. "We have to go to Reno"

Dean raised his eyebrow in surprise, but to his credit he didn't say anything.

"I dreamt of a demon I have to destroy and I think he's in Reno."

"Reno?" repeated Dean looking contemplative for a moment "Alright, give me fifteen minutes and we'll hit the road."

Sam looked slightly taken back by Dean's quick acquiescence. "What no questions, no twelfth degree?"

Dean looked at Sam squarely his eyes holding respect and love and trust for his brother. "Sam, you say there's a demon we've got to kill in Reno, then we go to Reno."

"That simple?" said Sam almost disbelieving his brother.

"Sam" said Dean letting out a long breath "You can do things now that I don't understand and probably never will, but you're my brother and I trust you and if you say that's what we've got to do, then that's what we do."

Dean got up from the bed, swaying momentarily as his equilibrium eluded him for a second.

"But don't let that go to your head" said Dean with mock severity "I'm still in charge."

True to his word Dean was showered, changed and packed in fifteen minutes. He still looked a little green around the gills so Sam offered to drive for a while so that Dean could catch up on his sleep. Dean readily agreed and after paying their bill, sat in the passenger's seat of his beloved Impala and fell quickly back to sleep trying to pick up the dream that he had abandoned less than a short while before.

Sam headed the Impala out of Portland and made his way through the city to the I5 that would lead him through Salem and then south towards Reno. He figured that if they drove hard they could probably make Reno by nightfall so he put the radio on low and headed off down the interstate.

Just after one o'clock Sam pulled into a diner just outside Grant's Pass. Dean had been dozing on and off throughout the whole journey, warmed by the sun that was streaming in through the window. As they pulled up, Sam gave him a nudge in the ribs and Dean opened his eyes.

"Hungry?" asked Sam pulling into a car space not far from the diner.

"Starving" confessed Dean sitting up straighter in the seat. He felt better for having slept and his hangover had been reduced to a slight thick headedness. The brothers got out and walked into the diner, where they were seated in a booth that allowed them to look out on the people passing by.

Dean smiled at the waitress as she handed him a menu. He opened it a perused it, looking over the menu items that seemed to be the staple for every roadside diner across the country. But something jumped out at him, the 'Big English Breakfast – Served all day', he looked on further but his eye was drawn back to that dish every time. He closed the menu and smiled slightly to himself. If he couldn't have one hot English dish, he would have to content himself with another.

The brothers ordered their meals and then sat there as an awkward silence settled over them.

"Do you remember the time when dad took us deer hunting in the Rockies?" said Sam suddenly, shaking Dean out of he own reverie.

"Yeah" said Dean a smile touching his lips "I was nearly fifteen and you were about nine or so."

"Yeah" said Sam smiling too "That's the only time I think I can remember Dad ever talking about the war."

"God" said Dean slightly confused by Sam's line of thought "I don't remember that."

"Sure you do." said Sam adamantly "We were sitting around the camp fire and Dad thought I looked scared by all the animal noises."

"You were scared" said Dean with a crocked smile "You were such a little puss."

Sam picked up a straw from the dispenser on the table and threw it across at his brother good naturedly with an indignant smile on his lips. "I was not." he protested.

"You so were?" continued Dean, enjoying the good humour that Sam seemed to be in. It had been a long time since they had talked like this.

"Look whatever I say, your not going to believe me anyway." said Sam rolling his eyes "But do you remember what he said?"

"Wasn't it something about not being frightened of the noises that you could hear, because it was the things that you couldn't that would kill you."

Sam smiled slightly sadly "Yeah, Dad's idea of a pep talk."

"Well its true isn't it?" protested Dean, taking the familiar role in their father's defence.

"Dean" said Sam smiling slightly "I was nine!"

"Like I said" replied Dean with smug confirmation "A puss."

Sam laughed slightly and shook his head at his brother. Dean just smiled his crocked smile and let the waitress serve them their drinks.

"After he'd had a few he told us some stories of some of the night watches he had back in Nam, do you remember?" asked Sam looking at his brother earnestly.

Dean crinkled his brow in concentration, pulling up the memory from so many he had of John Winchester "Yeah, I think I do…Hang on, I thought you were asleep when he got into that?"

"No" said Sam "I was faking. I wanted to hear what you two talked about when I was asleep."

A drawn out silence stretched between the brothers.

"Why do you think he never talked about the war?" asked Sam searching his brother's face.

"I don't know." said Dean with a shrug "Bad memories maybe? Perhaps he had things on his mind that he thought were more important, who can really say?" Dean sounded fairly philosophical about it, but Sam could sense that his brother held regret about how much they didn't know about John Winchester.

"It's weird isn't it?" said Sam idly stirring the ice in his drink "We know nothing about Dad and what he was like before mom died."

"Yeah" conceded Dean, who had those thoughts himself "I mentioned Dad's name to Adam, hoping that he might have known him in the core or something, but unfortunately he didn't. I would have liked to have talked to someone about what Dad was like at that time. That would have been good?"

"Maybe we should look some of his marine buddies up?" suggested Sam

Dean looked across the table at his brother, his eyes furrowing slightly "Why this sudden interest?"

Sam avoided Dean's eye. He wasn't sure how he could explain it to Dean, without betraying his meetings with his mother. He wasn't sure that he could explain that he needed to know the man who his mother had sacrificed so much for…sacrificed him for.

"I've just been thinking about him a bit lately." said Sam hoping that Dean would accept this largely evasive answer.

"Me too." said Dean quietly, and he meant it.

"Hey" he said suddenly filling the silence with his exuberance "When we get to Reno, it might be worthwhile filling the coffers if you know what I mean."

Sam cocked his head and smiled at his brother "What did you have in mind Poker or Black Jack?"

Dean looked at his brother disgusted "Wash you mouth out" he said with mock severity "There is no choice there. Poker all the way, my dear brother, a little Texas Hold'em; Seven Card stud or maybe even Five Card draw."

"What's the difference, it's all cards?" said Sam shrugging nonchalantly

"Spoken like a man who's never played cards for money before." said Dean with a snort "With Black Jack you have the play the cards and hope that lucks on your side, with Poker you've got to play the man and hope that you're a better man."

"Didn't Hannah give you access to money." said Sam, but Dean couldn't miss the slight derision he heard in his brothers' voice.

"I'm not living off the Doc" said Dean resolutely "We made our own way before we met her and we can make our own way now."

"That's the smartest thing I've heard you say in a long time" said Sam his tone a little caustic.

Dean wanted to explain to Sam that he wasn't slighting the Doc, he just didn't want her to get the impression that they were sponging off her generosity. He would only resort to her funds if they were in trouble, but there was no point in correcting Sam, he was in such a good mood and Dean didn't want to spoil it.

The waitress arrived with the food and the boys ate quickly, eager to be back on the road. Dean drove the second leg of the trip in the afternoon. He was hoping that Sam might get some shut eye before they arrived in Reno, but Sam just watched the countryside go by unconsciously tapping his foot to the old Aerosmith album that Dean had put on the Stereo.

It was dark when Dean drove through Border Town. It was a clear night and as the brother's drove past White Lake, the three quarter moon was reflected in the still water of the lake. The countryside was becoming more populated and Dean realised that they were probably only twenty minutes drive from the heart of Reno.

The roads was full of cars all heading into the main gambling strip on Virginia Street, so the boys made a strategic stop at one of the roadside motels near the heart of Reno and checked into a room.

Dean threw open the door to the room, and like the town itself, the room seemed to be bathed in a strange pink neon light. The walls had been painted pink, and the covers on the bed were a satin black. The lamp shade and furniture were upholstered in hot pink, a darker shade than the walls but of the same tone. It leant the room and almost seedy feel to it, like it was a red light district or something.

With bags in hand Sam and Dean stood in the doorway surveying the room with the scrutiny of people who spent most of their life in hotel rooms. Dean looked for the essentials first, television, fridge, kettle, towels, clean beds and carpets. He checked each element off in his head, and he was sure that Sam was doing the same.

Satisfied that they had everything there needed Dean shrugged with a subtle grunt of acceptance and moved to put his stuff on one of the double beds. So what if they were going to spend a few days in 'Barbie's dream home'. It had beds and a shower, so it would do.

As he put his bags on the bed, Dean noticed that there was a pile of brochures nearly and inch thick on the bed side table, going into technicoloured detail about all of the gaming establishments and activities that Reno and the surrounding Tahoe area had to offer. He also noticed that there was complimentary casino chip that entitled him to one free drink at Circus Circus Hotel and Casino.

Absently Dean picked up the chip and with deft hands began flipping it end over end along his knuckles, trying hard to ignore the smiling face of the clown that adorned one of its sides. It wasn't right to have a poker chip with a clown on it. For one, nobody liked clowns especially not Dean, and secondly they were down right unlucky.

"Ok" said Dean watching as Sam rifled through his bag "This is your show Sammy, what do we do next?"

Sam looked troubled as he turned his eyes towards Dean. He had explained to Dean who the demon was on the drive down, but as to how to find the demon, Mike hadn't exactly said. "To be perfectly honest" he confessed "I don't really know. It is probably too late to start sniffing around with the cops down here, so I was kind of hoping that we could just walk around so I could get a sense of things. I get the impression that if Thammuz is on a trip to find converts for Beleth, he'll go where the people are."

"Sounds like a plan to me." said Dean. He would have been happy if they just took the night to enjoy Reno and start hunting tomorrow, but his sense of duty pricked him and the ever increasing sense of urgency about his entire life, just increased in every time he started to think things like that.

He slipped out of his leather jacket and pulled his t-shirt over his head, discarding it on the bed and opening his duffle to search inside.

"Tomorrow, we better find a Laundromat too" said Dean as he rummaged through his duffle bag, disregarding shirts he knew to be dirty and assessing the clean ones for their appropriateness. He knew from experience, that casinos put perspective players of high stakes cards through a fair amount of scrutiny to prevent amateurs with more cash than brains from ruining it from the other players, and he didn't want to look like he just blew in off the street.

He pulled out a black shirt and held it to his nose. Satisfied that it passed the sniff test, Dean slipped it on and started to button it up. He looked down at his jeans as he did so, they were neat and comfortable so they would do, but rather than wear his leather jacket, he decided that he would grab his black suit jacket from the back of the Impala. It was usually stored there until they had to impersonate priests or FBI agents or some such, but it would do him well to have a smart jacket tonight.

Sam took his cue from Dean, changing out of his comfy jeans that had a rather threadbare hole in the knee in favour of a deep blue pair of Levi's. He pulled on a deep red shirt, the colour of wine and then he went into the bathroom and made his hair damp so that he could comb it back off his face. Outside he could hear Dean fishing their jackets out of the back of the Impala.

Sam followed Dean out, picking up the room keys of the side board and slipping them into his pocket as he left. Dean waited by the Impala, holding Sam's jacket out for him.

"We walking?" questioned Sam as he shrugged into his jacket.

"I'm not going to try and drive in" said Dean adjusting his own collar "We'd probably end up driving around all night just looking for a park."

"So were walking" said Sam resolutely, heading out to the street.

The lights of Virginia Street acted as beacon in the darkness to guide the brothers as if they were wise men on their way to Bethlehem. It only took them about ten minutes to walk to the heart of Reno, where the stood underneath the massive arch that announced that Reno was 'the biggest little city in the world'.

"Subtle, isn't it?" said Dean resisting the urge to squint at the multicoloured flashing sign.

"Not exactly the word that comes to my mind." said Sam a quirky smile tugging at his lips.

On either side of the street the buildings of Reno were alive with dancing colour and light. Looking down the street, the Brothers could see the beckoning lights of the Horseshoe, Fitzgerald's, The Eldorado and then Circus Circus which seemed to tower over them all. In between the Cassino giants were smaller stores, pawn brokers and money lenders whose paltry little neon signs paled next to the spectacle that was the large Casinos

As Sam studied the town he was struck with the thought that Reno was much like one of those carnivorous plants, that attracted insects in with their bright and beautiful colours and then devoured them whole. He said a silent prayer that he and Dean would have better luck.

"Let's walk the strip" suggested Dean "We'll see what your spider sense picks up."

"And we might want to find somewhere to eat too." said Sam, his stomach growling to punctuate his feelings.

"I heard that!" said Dean, standing back with a gesture so that Sam could lead the way.

* * *

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear her head. Her mind buzzed with the constant traffic of people around her like a radio station that was just barely tuned in. She scowled down at her tiny companion, who stood silently studying the crowd.

"Why did we have to come here? I hate this place!" she moaned, an air of adolescent petulance ringing in her words.

"I told you that I wanted to watch." said her tiny companion, her voice young but authoritative.

She watched as they made their way through the crowd. They were easy to follow, the tall one being head and shoulders above everyone else and his brother was always a step behind.

"This place makes my head hurt." whined the taller girl, rubbing her temples for affect.

"We'll be gone soon." said the elfin child not even bothering to look at her companion's theatrics. "Practice that technique I showed you for blocking out the noises."

"I am but it's not working."

The little girl turned her tiny face towards her companion, her childlike eyes burning with menace. "Try harder." she said through clenched teeth elongating the syllables of each word so that it was almost a growl.

The adolescent leant sullenly against the wall watching as the two men disappeared out of her line of sight on the opposite side of the street. She didn't really understand what all the fuss about them was. They weren't all that special to look at, the tall one had power, she could feel, but the shorter one had nothing that sparked her interest.

She looked up scowling at a man who was watching her from the entrance of a shop. His face looked placid enough, but his energy felt dirty, like when a lake has oil floating on its surface. There was something off about it, so she probed at his thoughts slightly. As soon as she did so she was sorry, in his mid she was naked, tied spread eagle on a bed before him exposed and open to him. Snapshots of all the disgustingly lurid things that he would like to do to her flashed in his mind with the speed of firing synapses.

She almost baulked, a shiver running down the length of her spine. But she kept her composure. She blocked out his thoughts unable to stomach any more of the images running through his head.

Seeing that her small companion was engrossed in watching the brother's, she walked over to the man a subtle sway to her developing hips and a smile touching her lips. The man's eyes seemed to widen slightly at her approach, but then he smiled. She could almost see in him the joy at the potential that all of his sordid fantasies would come true.

She walked until she was mere inches from him and spoke her voice so low that he had to lean down and put his ear close to her to even hear her speak.

"I know that you want me." she said as seductively as she could.

The man straightened and looked down at her, his face a cross between surprise and delight.

"I know that you want me to suck on your cock."

She took a subtle step closer to him as she spoke, her body almost touching his but not quite.

"I know that you want to stick your dick in me…everywhere."

He all but groaned as she elongated her words seductively, he went to touch her, but she nimbly moved out of his reach.

She leaned in once again and smiled at him, never taking her eyes off of him.

"I also know what they do to dirty pervs like you in hell." with a lighting quick strike, she put both palms on his chest and fed back every image that she had seen in his mind, but instead of her tied up, it was him tied up and exposed to the worst looking hell spawn that she could imagine.

As the images flooded the man's unprepared mind, he began to scream, a bloodcurdling scream that started down in his belly and bubbled up through his throat. Passers-by turned to look at him as he screamed himself hoarse. He pushed the girl roughly aside and tore out into the street, knocking down some tourists in his manic haste to get away.

The girl righted herself laughing slightly as she watched him tear away through the shocked spectators. It was amazing how affective it was putting the shoe on the other foot so to speak. She felt a tug on her arm and looked down into the angry eyes of her elfin companion.

"What?" she protested as the little girl stared daggers with her eyes.

"Is it too much to ask that you just stand there still, not doing anything." she hissed

"That dirty prick was thinking vile thoughts about me." she said trying to tug her arm out of the girls vice like grip.

"I don't care. You just used your powers and that may have alerted them to our presence here. You might have ruined everything!" hissed the little girl.

"I didn't use it much" replied the older girl, feeling tears grow in her eyes but she was determined not to shed any of them.

"Come on" said the little girl, pulling with unnatural strength on the wrist that she had in her hand "We have to leave… now."

"Alright, alright I'm coming." was her companion's only response as they disappeared into the throngs of people crowding Virginia Street.

* * *

Sam stopped dead in his tracks; he felt a faint stirring at the edge of his mind, like a shadow caught in peripheral vision. He swung around to cast his eyes over the area that they had just come from, but try as he might, he couldn't quite hold on to that feeling. His brain was filled with the white noise of all the people around him. He was slowly becoming used to the presence of the noise it much the same way a people who lived on trains lines ceased hearing the trains as they passed. You just tuned you self out to that particular sound and carried on as normal.

"You got something?" questioned Dean watching him closely.

Sam didn't answer immediately, but tried one more time to find that elusive presence that he had felt earlier but with no luck.

"No" said Sam scrapping his hand through his hair, to refocus his attention. "I must have imagined it."

"What was it?" questioned Dean his scrutiny intensifying.

"No nothing" dismissed Sam "It just felt a little out of the ordinary, but I can't find it again. It was probably a false alarm."

"Ok?" said Dean "If you think so."

"Yeah" said Sam giving his brother a reassuring smile "I'll keep and eye out for it again, but I think I'm probably just a bit jumpy."

"What you need bro" said Dean his lip curling in delight "are some ribs. All you can eat ribs to be precise."

Dean wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders "Oh look" he said with mock innocence turning Sam around so he could stare a the massive two storey banner draped down the outside wall of Fitzgerald's Casino "An all you can eat buffet with Fitzgerald's world famous ribs…That was lucky wasn't it."

Sam smiled and shook his head at his incorrigible brother, he cast his eye back fleetingly in the hopes that he might spot something that would explain the feeling he had gotten, but when he didn't see anything he fell in behind his brother and walked into the Casino.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**327-Days**

**New York - 3:17am **

_The room was black, pitch black from floor to ceiling. Candle holders on the walls held deep red cathedral candles whose flames flickered in the gentle breeze, but whose light could barely hold back the veil of blackness that hung on the room. _

_She turned quickly letting her hair brush her over her shoulders in a sensuous flow of silk. She looked to the bed, which was the central feature in the room. It had a masterfully crafted wrought iron bed head in the pattern of an artful spider web and the plush mattress was covered by a spread of thick black velvet and satin cushions._

_Against the darkness his skin seemed to glow almost white. Velvet rope had been used to tie his wrists to either side of the bed head spreading him in cruciform across the bed and she was unsure if he looked like the spider or some hapless fly lying there._

_She walked to the bed, the sound of her heels ringing out against the floor as she moved. His eyes never left her as she walked and it gave her a rush of power to know that she alone commanded all of his attention._

_Her breathing was short and shallow, a response to the tight corsetry that bound her body, but she didn't mind. Being perpetually breathless just heightened the experience. She stood by the bed and looked down at him and smile twisting her lips painted blood red._

"_I've heard that you have been a very bad boy" she cooed allowing the words to bring a seductive pout to her lips as she spoke._

_He looked up at her eagerly, his face twisted in lustful longing "I have, I've been really bad." he conceded early, nodding his head to emphasise his point._

_Light a lightning strike she bought the riding crop that was in her hand down across his naked chest, it cracked with alarming volume and she watched as a long red welt rose on his chest._

"_Did I say that you could speak" she said, never raising her voice, but affecting a kind of authority to her words that seemed to make him all the more eager._

_She bought the riding crop down again and then once more for affect, a network of welts now clearly visible on his chest._

"_You may only speak when I give you permission too. Is that understood?"_

_She put the riding crop under his chin and looked at him expectantly. He hesitated for only a moment and then said in a quiet voice._

"_Yes"_

_Within the blink of and eye she had bought the riding crop down against his chest, hard, this time almost drawing blood from the savagery of the strike._

"_Yes what Dog?"_

"_Yes ma'am?" he said through gritted teeth as his eyes teared up with the intense pain_

_She bought the crop down again and this time he cried out unable to curb the urge as the crop bit into flesh already stinging from her earlier assault._

"_Yes ma'am? This isn't the army you worthless piece of animal faeces. Here you will refer to me as mistress, is that understood?"_

"_Yes mistress" he said hurriedly he voice breathy under the strain of his pain._

"_There" she cooed her voice now soft and enticing "That isn't so hard now is it?"_

"_No mistress" he said his own voice, becoming husky once again as the initial pain began to subside slightly._

_On long legs, she stepped on to the bed supporting her tall frame on the bed head as she put her feet on either side of his hips. As she bent to straddle him, the red pvc of her thigh high boots creaked and groaned as she folded herself onto him so that she was straddling his legs. The warmth of her crotch was mere inches from his, ever growing penis, but she wouldn't let them make contact just yet…that would be letting him off far too easily._

_He inhaled sharply as she wiggled herself into position near his throbbing member, but just out of reach of it. She leant over and picked up a short fat candle from the table beside the bed. It barely gave out any light, but as she moved it, the sloshing of the wax inside, nearly doused the small flame._

"_Do you know what I like to do to naughty little boys?" she said running her pink tongue over her lips._

"_No Mistress" said the man, his eyes flickering between the candle and that nubile tongue._

"_I like to teach them that if they play with fire, they will get burnt."_

_With that she leaned over and ran her tongue over his nipple. He groaned deep in his throat as the tongue teased his flesh and her pelvis rubbed against his engorged penis. The sensation nearly overwhelmed him, but he was quickly filled with another sensation as she poured some of the wax over the nipple that she had just taken the time to lick._

_He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry out or moan, so he did an awkward combination of both. She looked down at his response with and increasing sense of satisfaction. His dick was full and throbbing as it lay against the dark curls of his pubic hair, and as if sensing that is was under scrutiny it twitched._

_Wetting her lips, she leaned down and laved the other nipple with her tongue and sitting up she poured the hot wax over it, watching it run in rivulets down the man's body. He was quite a nice specimen really, young, not unattractive and with a bit of muscle to his body._

_He hissed in that mix of pain and pleasure that she was becoming all too familiar with._

"_Did you like that, dog?"_

"_Oh yes mistress?" he said almost panting._

"_How much did you like that Dog?" she said rolling her hips slightly so that her hot crotch touched the sensitive skin of his scrotum._

"_Very much mistress" he stammered on ragged breathes_

"_I don't believe you!" she hissed upending the candle so the wax fell on the soft flesh of his abdomen, dangerously close to his taut phallus._

"_Honestly mistress." he pleaded a new air of fear fuelling his words._

"_Am I the best that you have ever had?" she asked her voice like the strike of a viper._

"_Absolutely mistress." he said almost desperately._

_She smiled a secret smile and shimmied back to his legs, running her tongue along his penis from hilt to tip. He groaned deep in his throat and the power that she felt thrummed within her. She repeated the motion, using her tongue to stimulate the sensitive flesh on the head of his cock._

"_Do you like that, Dog?"_

"_Oh gods yes mistress" said the main on a deep exhalation of breath almost like a benediction._

"_Would you like me to do it again?"_

"_Absolutely mistress." he said without hesitation._

_She picked up the riding crop, that she had discarded on the bed and then bent down to encircle him with her blood red lips. She slid slowly down his shaft and as she came back up she lashed out with the crop, lashing out at the bicep that we pulled taught between his body and the binding of the bed._

_He groaned again, this time almost a growl that rumbled through his chest. He was so turned on by her she could tell as his pulse beat rhythmically through his cock and then against her lips. Without breaking contact, she changed the crop to her other hand and repeated the motion. The man lifted his hips to meet her stroke and again he growled, the air seemingly robbed from his lungs._

_She threw the ridding crop to the floor and flexed her hand out along the man's chest, running her nails, that had been manicured to a fine point down his flesh. She bit into wax and skin and knew that she had exerted enough pressure to break the skin. _

_The man didn't complain, he accepted both her pleasurable and her painful ministrations as if they were part and parcel of the same ecstasy. Her mouth glided over his manhood, alternating between long slow strokes and slow short strokes. Occasionally she would let her teeth press against his swollen flesh, not enough to break the skin, but enough to tantalise him with the possibility of pain._

_His chest was ragged, the skin opened in long tattered scratches, she lifted her head and smiled at her quarry._

"_Are you enjoying this Dog?" she said, licking her tongue over her lips._

"_Absolutely mistress." the man responded obediently as his hips writhed to try and attract the attention of her mouth again._

"_Would you do something for me?" she said punctuating her sentence with a quick lick of the head of his cock._

"_Anything Mistress" that man said almost pleading._

"_I want you to say a word for me. It's a word that gets me hot and I go faster the more you say it."_

"_Of course mistress, what is the word?" pleaded the man, his hips pumping the air to try and maintain the rhythm that she had set._

"_Beleth" she said on a breathy voice._

"_Beleth mistress?" questioned the man, but on hearing the word she bent down and took him in her mouth; deep into her throat and his own ragged cry was all the confirmation that he needed._

"_Beleth" he muttered again in between ragged breathes._

"_Oh my… Beleth" he said again as his head swam with urgency._

_She smiled as best as she was able with his cock filling her mouth. Wrapping her hands around his member she pumped him a couple of times, while she teased the top of his cock with soft little licks from her tongue._

_He nearly chocked on his tongue as he writhed and pulled hard against his restraints. The velvet rope had been tied tight and it bit into his wrists in a deliciously symphony of sensation._

"_Would you die for me Dog?" she whispered to him, pumping his cock with a strong hard grip._

"_Yes mistress." the man moaned, half of his words being swallowed buy his groaning response to her actions._

"_Would you die for Beleth?" she said again, almost so quiet that he didn't even hear her speak._

"_Yes mistress." he pleaded as he tossed his head back and forth on the satin pillows._

_He was close now, she could feel it, so with a smile on her lips she bent down, taking him deep into her throat and pumping her head up and down so that she stimulated the full length of him._

_He felt the ecstasy blossom in his stomach and then move lower so that it was focused completely on his groin and then it washed over him like a warm light and exploded out of him with volcanic force. He wailed as his rapture shook the very core of him. He had never experienced anything like this in his life. Over and over he throbbed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him._

_She sat up and wiped a drop of liquid off her lips, then without ceremony, she draw the knife that had been secure to her back in a cunning sheath that was sewn directly into her corset. The poor fool only had time to open his eyes, before she plunged it deep into his chest._

_There was a moment, where his ecstasy and his terror mingled and she shivered as the scent mingled in her nostrils. He seemed to be staring at the hilt of the knife that was buried deep in his heart, but as the blood stopped pounding his eyes closed and his head dropped back to the satin pillows._

"_There you go Beleth" she said without humour "Another one for your collection."_

"_A pity" she mused climbing off the now still figure "He had a lot more fight in him. I could have had a lot of fun with that one."_

_She looked up at the figure shackled to the blacker than black walls, he was naked and his hands bound above his heads. His mouth was gagged but he was ragging on the inside, she could see it in his eyes._

"_I had to demonstrate for you the power that I have, so you understand what a powerful adversary you have in Beleth. I have maybe a dozen other little lap dogs that would do anything for me including die."_

_She smiled as she reached over the body of the prone man and reefed the knife out of his chest. _

"_For some reason Beleth want's you in his service. I don't understand it myself, but he does. He wants me to offer you the choice of joining him or dying. Now we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way."_

_As she spoke she ran the tip of the still bloodied knife up his thigh._

"_I'm kind of hoping for the hard way myself."_

Hannah sat up, clutching at her chest, the faint scent of sulphur burning her nostrils. She looked around in the darkened room, relief sweeping through her as she realised she had been dreaming. Her relief was short lived though; one of the curses of her gift was that her dreams often heralded what would pass or what was happening at that very moment. She hadn't known the poor man who had died on the velvet bed, but she sure as hell knew the second man who was shackled to the wall…Dean.

**

* * *

**

Dean strutted out onto the still bustling streets of Reno with Sam close behind him.

"A very fruitful night wouldn't you say?" he said as he patted the now fat wallet that was in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." said Sam with a little less enthusiasm.

"You could of played too Sammy." replied Dean scowling slightly at his brother "You would have made a killing!"

"Yeah, somehow being able to read the thoughts of all the people at the table really takes the fun out of it."

Dean looked down at his watch and noticed that it was a little after midnight "Past the witching hour" he mused "we'll probably have better luck finding a demon now."

Sam smiled at him "What makes you think that?"

Dean returned his smile "Let's just say I'm feeling lucky"

They joined the flow of the crowd as it walked down the main strip. Dean kept looking at the crowd, while Sam seemed intently focused. Dean was getting used to that look on Sam; his brother's physical stillness often meant that his mind was reaching far outside of itself. He had noticed that the Doc adopted the same manner too.

Sam sighed heavily rubbing agitatedly at his temples "There are just too many people" he said "Doesn't anyone sleep in this town."

"Nope." said Dean with authority "This is a 24hour town bro. The only time it gets quiet is around dawn, when all of the night owls get their sorry asses back to a dark hole somewhere."

Sam smiled at his brother; there was something decidedly autobiographical about that statement. They continued to walk the strip and Sam noticed, that while it was still busy there was a decided change in the demographic of the people walking the streets at this time of night.

Earlier there had been families, groups of wide eyed tourists from both America and abroad fighting their way down Virginia Street. Now there were mostly groups of young people, some couples walking arm in arm, groups of bachelors ogling everything remotely female and women dressed in clothing revealing more than it concealed. Absently Sam wondered if they were hookers. The way fashion went today; sometimes it was really hard to tell who the party girls were and who the professionals were.

As they walked, Sam allowed his perception to move out among the crowd. He was looking for the familiar buzz that he had experienced during Asbeel's attack on the cottage, but all he got was the general static of the passers-by.

"This isn't working" he finally said to Dean and looking around he realised that they had gone a little way past the activity of the main strip and this end of town, everything seemed darker and slightly more sinister.

"Maybe if I go home and get some sleep, I might get some clue in my dreams" Sam said, his voice sounding defeated.

"Ok" said Dean looking back the way they had come "Let me just visit the John and then we can jump in a taxi back to the motel."

"Fine" said Sam leaning up against a lamp post "I'll just hang here for a sec."

Dean nodded as he walked into the sports bar that marked where they had stopped. The bar itself was really dark and filled with smoke and Dean nodded to the bar tender as he walked through. The man scowled at him as he passed and Dean couldn't help but smile. The man was like an impression of every bad tempered surly bartender that ever was.

As he headed towards the back, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and read the Doc's caller ID. Flipping open the phone he moved to the back of the bar where it was a little quieter.

"Doc" he said "This is almost twice in one day; I'm not sure if I should feel honoured or concerned?"

"Thank god you're all right?" she said, the relief obvious in her voice.

Dean smiled; he couldn't help but feel an element of satisfaction that she might worry about him.

"Yeah I'm fine, Doc" he said quickly "We've got to get a new line of business if this is how every phone conversation that we have is going to start."

"Are you still in Portland?" asked the Doc, her voice still serious in spite of her relief.

"No, Sam and I drove down to Reno during the day. He dreamed of some demon name Thammuz that we had to hunt down and he got the feeling that it was here."

"Thammuz?" questioned the Doc "As in 'the right hand of Beleth' Thammuz?"

"Yeah I think so, unless there are two of these bad boys running around with the same name." replied Dean.

"Dean where is Sam?" questioned the Doc and there was a hint of panic in his voice.

"He's waiting for me out the front. What's the matter Doc?"

"I dreamt tonight that you were in terrible danger." she said and Dean could hear how shaken she was by it.

"Tell me what happened Doc." said Dean, blocking his other ear so that he could hear her better.

Hannah went into the details of what she could see in her dream, repeating everything as she remembered it. When she had finished there was a long silence.

"Dean?" she called wondering if he was still on the other end of the phone.

"So let me get this straight" said Dean in a very measured tone "You were dreaming and in your dream I was naked?"

"Dean!" The Doc's exclamation seemed exasperated, but she couldn't hide the hint of humour that touched her.

"Alright! Alright! I'm sorry. I was just trying to break the tension." he said with a smile in his voice "So you did get a look at this woman?"

"No" Hannah said sounding disappointed "I saw everything from her point of view. The only thing I can be sure of is that she is tall, has long hair and was wearing thigh high red pvc boots."

"How do you know she was tall?" quizzed Dean

"I don't know, she just felt tall." said Hannah "And there was a lot of boot so her legs must be really long."

"Ok Doc, so beware of the tall, leggy woman in red pvc boots?" said Dean, almost feeling ridiculous.

"Dean I know how that sounds, but I'm serious."

"I know you are Doc." said Dean, all note of teasing gone from his voice "I'll keep an eye out for her."

"And don't get separated from Sam" said Hannah "He can protect you. This character makes everything else that we've experienced up till now look like a girl scout."

"I'll stick with Sam." said Dean "But if you can do me a favour and do a little bit of research on this Thammuz, that would be really helpful."

"I'll get on to it now." she replied earnestly.

"No "protested Dean "Get back to dreaming about me naked, the research can wait until the morning!"

Hannah laughed and it was a sound that warmed Dean's chest.

"Watch your back Dean." she said sobering.

"I will" he replied and waited until he heard the click in the line that told him she was gone.

Dean hurried out of the bar where Sam was waiting for him.

"What took you so long?" groused Sam as he moved his tall frame off of the lamp post.

"Shy bladder." said Dean suddenly feeling reluctant to share the fact that the Doc had called. He didn't want to lie to his brother, but he knew how Sam felt about the Doc so he didn't want to antagonise the situation.

Keeping a keen eye on the traffic, Dean crossed the road, Sam jogging along at his shoulder. They hailed a cab and dove in, giving the driver the name of the hotel where they were staying.

"Are you alright?" asked Sam "You don't look so good."

"Nah" said Dean dismissively "I was just thinking that maybe we should find some more bullets for the colt. If we had found Thammuz tonight you would have been fine, but I'm feeling like a bit of a sitting duck here."

Sam put his hand on Dean's arm. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You know that right?"

"I know." said Dean "But what happens if your not there. I need some way to protect myself and the colt represents my best chance."

Sam nodded seeing the sense in Dean's words "All that came to you while you were in the John"

Dean smiled at his brother rather impishly "Incredible isn't it."

Dean pulled out his phone and started typing in a message, while the idea of the bullets was still fresh in his mind.

"Who you messaging?" asked Sam with a sideways look at Dean.

"I'll just ask Bobby about those colt bullets while it's on my mind." lied Dean. There was no reason to tell Sam that he was actually texting the Doc; that would only serve to upset him unnecessarily.

A few minutes later the Taxi pulled up out the front of their hotel. Dean leant across to the driver and handed him a few bills. When Dean had won a healthy pot, he made sure that he tipped everyone well. It was his one concession to lady luck. He hoped that his support of the honest working man may eventually balance out, the dishonest work that he occasional did.

"I wonder if Ken has turned down the beds." Dean muttered as he walked to their room.

"Last I heard Barbie had dumped him." replied Sam absently and Dean couldn't help looking over at his brother and smiling and enormous smile at him.

"What?" asked Sam, seeming suddenly concerned at the cheesy smile plastered on Dean's face

"Still on the same wave length Sammy. You're still my brother."

With that Dean flung his arm across Sam's shoulders and caught his brother's head in a gentle head lock. He fisted his free hand running his knuckles over Sam's skull and messing up his brother's long dark hair.

"Damn it Dean" protested Sam "Get off me!"

"Not until you say uncle!" laughed Dean.

They tussled harmlessly in the car park both of them breaking into pearls of laughter.

"Say Uncle" prompted Dean as the danced around the car park.

"No" said Sam resolutely "No Way"

Dean stilled, holding his brother firmly know so that he couldn't pull away.

"If you will not submit, well there is just one thing for it…Wet Willie." cried Dean, sticking his finger in his mouth and pulling it out so that it made a popping sound.

"No" wailed Sam and he redoubled his efforts to try and get away.

"Say uncle" repeated Dean, trying to find Sam's ear with his wet finger "Say it"

As the boys crashed around the parking lot they heard a door open and a man dressed in a floral dressing gown, quite obviously not his own, came to the door.

"For Christ sake, would you say Uncle so the rest of us can get some sleep?"

Dean straightened up, immediately letting go of Sam who stood up also.

"Sorry" said Sam contritely

"Yeah…Sorry" echoed Dean

The man gave them a disgruntled growl and closed the door disappearing inside.

"See what you did?" said Dean pushing Sam towards their room "You got us in trouble"

"Me?" protested Sam as he fished the room keys out of his pocket. "That was all you my friend."

"All you had to do was say uncle and this would have all been done with." continued Dean as they disappeared into their room.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**327-Days**

**Reno - 6:42am**

Sam rolled over to look at where Dean slept soundly. He had been trying all night to call on his mother and Mike, but his dreams had been empty of them and as a result he had no lead on where to start looking for Thammuz. He was trying not to let himself feel too down about it, after all, he and Dean had been hunting successfully well before he ever began having these dreams, but still the frustration crept in eating at him.

He dragged himself out of bed and jumped in the shower thinking of all the things that he and Dean might do to get a lead, checking with the police, scoping out the morgues, looking for demon sign in the surround weather patterns and livestock. As he let the hot water stream over him, he let his whole body relax, he wanted to try one more time to try and sense the demon.

Sam took a deep breath, and let the sensation of his body drop away. He let his senses travel out from him, across land and through buildings, feeling every presence that he came across for a fraction of a second before moving on. It was oddly euphoric, this complete weightlessness, the ability to sense other people as they went about the business of living, To feel their energy and dismiss it as it he were looking at nothing more than one ant in a whole nest.

He roamed out across the neighbourhood, moving down the streets adding blocks of information to his conscious understanding. He became aware of the concentration of energy signatures and realised that he must have reached the Casino strip. Even with his cursory touch, Sam could sense the exhilaration of a win or the gut wrenching mortification of a loss before he moved on.

He reached further feeling the full stretch of his consciousness, he felt a slight ache in his mind as if he were pushing it to the limit of his extension and then he felt it…the presence that burned in comparison to everything else. Sam felt it just at the edge of consciousness, so he pushed his whole being, reaching for it with every conscious and unconscious desire that he had.

It was somewhere dark, but the area was illuminated with a strange yellowing light. He pushed for detail, to try and get a hold of the burning presence, but it was slippery, elusive, like holding a fish in water. Sam felt the presence turn aware of his presence and then he was given the impression of looking into burning eyes, as if the demon was standing a few feet away from him.

Sam baulked unprepared for the awareness that the demon had of Sam's probing. His head was suddenly filled with pain and his consciousness felt like he was on fire, it burned so intensely. Sam tried desperately to sever the contact but he was held in thrall by the power of this demon. A psychic shockwave travelled down the link that Sam had created and hit him with the force of a physical blow, knocking him off his feet into the tiles wall behind him, then darkness enveloped him and he was vaguely aware of the water falling on his face.

"Sam….Sam!"

Dean's voice sounded like it was coming from a really long way away, but there was an air of panic about it, that made Sam want to open his eyes even though it was against his better judgement.

He opened his eyes to be mere slits and the light seared his eyes with intensity. Pain shot through him and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. While that dimmed the intensity of the light it did little to stop the pain that was making him acutely aware of its presence. The back of his head throbbed with the same rhythm as his pulse and each beat felt like a nail being jabbed into his skull.

"What the hell happened." he said, bringing his hand up to his head and then wincing as his fingers found a particularly tender spot.

"I was kind of hoping that you would tell me." said Dean, grabbing the hand towel off the rail and putting it to his brothers head, where blood leaked out in a steady trickle. "I'm fast asleep and the next thing I know your hitting the deck in the shower."

Sam reached up to hold the towel against his head and looked down at the way his body had be concertinaed into the small shower cubicle. Dean was in his boxers and his favourite old AC/DC t-shirt and to protect his brother's modesty he had strategically draped a towel over Sam's lower body.

Sam fought nausea as he struggled into a sitting position, Dean watched with an expression of worry on his face.

"I saw it" said Sam, swallowing hard to stop his stomach rebelling. "The demon is definitely in the city. It was not on the main strip, but it certainly not far from it."

"You could see it?" questioned Dean, still feeling slightly awed at his brothers abilities.

"Not in the way you see with you eyes, I sort of sensed it" said Sam weakly suddenly aware that he was still squinting. This didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Hang tight Sam." said Dean patting him slightly on the shoulder "You gave yourself a good crack on the head, you may even have a concussion. I'll go and get you some ice."

As Dean spoke, Sam studied himself with a kind of detached awareness. The light sensitivity was a classic symptom of concussion, and he realised that despite the fact he had just awoken from a full night of sleep, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and return to sleep, which may be a very bad thing.

To stop himself from slipping into sleep, which was all his body seemed to want to do, Sam went over the impressions that were still in his memory. There was no doubt in his mind that the demon was in human form, but he had not seen the full form, only the eyes that burned with the intensity of hellfire, and then there was the strange yellow light.

There was something about it that struck some memory that seemed slightly out of reach. He sat up further, fighting back the stabbing pain in his head. He had to try and identify the yellow light. Somewhere in his mind he understood that was the key.

* * *

Dean hurriedly pulled on his jeans and grabbed the ice buck from on top the bar fridge. As he hurried out side he became aware that his bare feet were getting tangled in the cuff of his jeans, he looked down at the jeans that were far too long for him and realised that in his haste he had picked up Sam's jeans off the back of the chair instead of his own. He shrugged it off and hurried to the ice machine. As he walked he flipped open his mobile phone and dialled the Doc's number. 

"Hello, this is Hannah speaking."

The Doc's voice was polite but he could hear traces of fatigue in it.

"Doc, it's me." said Dean

"I didn't expect you to be ringing so early." said Hannah, but Dean could tell that his call was not unwelcome.

"I'm actually kind of hoping that you have some information on Thammuz for me. We had something of a close encounter this mourning and I need to understand what we are up against."

"What happened?" asked Hannah, her voice shifting from conversational to analytical.

"I'm not sure that I know" confessed Dean "I was asleep and Sam was in the shower, then next thing I know I hear this almighty crash and I find Sam out cold on the floor of the shower. When he came too, he said that he had found the demon, and that it was somewhere close."

"He made a mental connection with the demon?" Hannah asked her voice sounding slightly strained.

"I guess so."

"Dean, that is a really dangerous practise to start getting into. Once that connection has been established and the demon recognises it, the demon can use it a will, a powerful one may even attack through it."

"Shit" said Dean as he opened up the ice machine and dipped the ice bucket inside.

"Tell Sam, to protect himself now. Tell him to never let his guard down and as soon as he feels anything a bit weird to put his defences in place. I know from experience how strong they can be."

"Doc the best way I can help Sam now is to kill this son of a bitch…tell me how?"

"I'll tell you what I know." she said and he could hear the worry in her voice "Thammuz has certain affiliations with the Syrian deity of the same name who was the Phoenician equivalent of Adonis."

"As in the really good looking god?" asked Dean recognising the name but not the significance.

"Yeah but that is not the main point of the Adonis myth. Adonis was caught between two Goddesses, Aphrodite and Persephone he loved them both but his love was ultimately torturous as he could never be with either of them permanently."

"Doc" said Dean agitatedly "What are you saying?"

"What I'm trying to say Dean, is just imagined the kind of sick depraved creature that kind of perpetual torture would create."

"The dominatrix from your dream" Dean said quietly realising what Hannah was getting at.

"Precisely! A creature that combines love and pain as easily as you or I combine coffee and cream. In some later writings, Thammuz is even attributed with the creation of gun powder and artillery. Anything that one man can use to destroy another and why do men usually want to destroy one another."

"Penis envy?" said Dean, picking up the bucket full of ice and heading back to the room he shared with Sam.

Hannah laughed slightly but did not allow Dean to distract her from her point. "Love Dean. The absolute zealous devotion, whether it is to a religion; a country or a person, most people do it out of love."

"This is entirely too philosophical for me this early in the morning Doc, and I haven't even had any coffee yet. It also doesn't tell me how to kill this son of a bitch?"

"Well, I think using fire arms on it probably won't work not even your colt. If it has power over firearms, you're best not to take any in. So you'll probably need to restrain it somehow and exorcise it. It will be strong so if you can speak the words and Sam can push it out you might be alright."

"Don't suppose you want a quick jaunt down to Reno." said Dean, only half joking.

"Dean if you think you'll need me I'll be there." Hannah said earnestly.

"What? You have a better offer?"

"Actually" said Hannah "I'm on a flight this afternoon to Denver to go see a man about a book."

"Another Grimoire?" asked Dean, feeling slightly rejected that she would choose a book over his plea for help, even if he had made the plea in jest.

"Not exactly." she said "You know how you asked me to research the bullets made by Samuel Colt?"

"Yeah" said Dean feeling a sudden sense of excitement in the pit of his stomach.

"I did some research and discovered a couple of references that suggested that our Mr Colt kept a journal. Just to see if there were any known copies of this journal I did a Google search and I found some guy in Colorado claiming to have the actual journal for sale."

"What, some rare book seller or historian or something?" asked Dean

"Actually no" replied Hannah "An accountant who found it in his attic and thought he could make a bit on EBay."

"You found it on EBay?" said Dean, incredulity cutting through each of his words.

"It would seem so. I'll fly down this afternoon to authenticate it, and if it's real, I'll just have to make an offer that our accountant friend can't resist."

"OK Doc" said Dean "Let me know how you go. I need to get back to Sam now."

"Dean, I hope Sam is alright and if you need me, I'll be on the next flight."

"I know Doc. Thanks."

Dean hung up and hurried back into their room, anxious about how long he had been away from Sam. When he opened the door he realised that Sam had gotten up out of the shower and made his way over to his bed, where he sat with this head nursed in his hands.

"Hey" said Dean, seeing his brother "You're up and about then. Your skull must be thicker than I thought."

"Pity about those tiles though." said Sam without lifting his head "There goes the security deposit."

Dean went into the bathroom to grab another of the pink hand towels; he absently looked at the cracked tiles on the wall.

"Good thing I had a big win last night then" As Dean spoke her put a fist full of ice into the hand towel and handed it to Sam.

"The bleeding stopped?"

"Just about" replied Sam wincing slightly as he held the ice to the back of his head "But I'm going to have one hell of a headache."

He looked up at his brother and cocked his head slightly as he realised how long Dean's jeans looked.

"Why are you wearing my jeans?"

Dean smiled at his brother a crocked smile full of impish mischief.

"A little case of mistaken identity that's all." he said undoing the jeans and hanging them back over the chair.

"Now we really will have to find a Laundromat today." said Sam watching as Dean struggled into his own jeans.

"I was going to head out and get some coffee, you want something?"

Sam looked at his brother, grateful for his presence right at this moment. Dean just had a way of making even the most dire situation seem like just another day at the office.

"Coffee would be good and some aspirin if you can find it."

"You got it" said Dean, pulling his worn leather jacket over his faded AC/DC t-shirt and pulling on his boots.

Sam watched as he disappeared out the door and without moving, he picked up the tv remote from the night stand next to Dean's bed and turned on the tv just in time to catch a local news network going over the latest headlines. If there was a demon in town there would probably be some kind of trouble that was newsworthy, then again, this was Reno, trouble was half if its appeal.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**327-Days**

**Reno – 11.23am**

"Ok" said Dean hefting his full duffle onto his shoulder as he walked down the street, with Sam in a few steps behind. "If you were a torture demon in Reno where would you be? You said it was passed the main strip so we can rule out every croupier in Reno, although it would make a great cover wouldn't you say?"

Sam grunted somewhat non-committal and rubbed at his head that was pounding with percussive regularity with every step that he took. Absently he wonder how long ago it was since he had taken his last handful of Advil and whether or not one could die from an Advil overdose.

"Ok" said Dean trying to lead Sam down a train of thought. Usually it wasn't that easy, his brother's mind was generally sharp as a razor, but nursing an injury he might be a little bit easier to lead. "If they are not in the casinos maybe we need to think a little less conventionally. People go to places like Reno for one of two things, to gamble and to get laid."

"What you're suggesting our demons a hooker or some wannabe gigolo cruising for their next victim?" asked Sam looking doubtfully at his brother.

"Maybe?" said Dean enthusiastically. Sam seemed fairly reluctant to the idea and he needed him to be open to his suggestions. Dean hated not being able to come right out and tell Sam about Hannah's information, but he wasn't sure it would help them if he did, so he kept it to himself.

"What is Thammuz known for?" asked Dean

"Apart from being a henchmen for Beleth, I don't know a torturer, one who thrives of human misery."

"Right, and there was nothing on the news that indicated a demon torturing or killing anyone?" argued Dean.

"Sure, but not every homicide makes it to the news, you know that." retorted Sam.

"Alright, let me just go out on a limb here. What if there wasn't anything about this on the news, because the torture that Thammuz is involved in was welcomed by the victims."

"Wait, I'm not following, are you suggesting our Demon is hiding out in some S&M joint?" Sam stopped mid stride looking at Dean with open scepticism.

"Why not?" said Dean letting his duffel fall from his shoulder to the pavement "Think about it Sam. Thammuz is here to attract people to Beleth, which means he can't just kill them, his tools of the trade are pain and torture, his historical involvement paints him as one sick fuck, so wouldn't he try and seek out like minded individuals?"

Sam stood considering Dean's words for a little while "Alright, I'll concede that there is some logic to what you're saying, but even if Thammuz is hiding there, and I think that is a fairly big if, how do we find him? S&M communities are fairly tight knit, particularly the ones that will be extreme enough for Thammuz…Or so I've heard." said Sam breaking eye contact with his smirking brother.

"Sammy, dropping a few secret fetishes here are we?" said Dean his eyebrow raised high into his hairline.

"I had to do a paper on sexuality for a psych class a few years ago and my topic was fetishes." Sam said feeling heat in his cheeks.

"Of course you did." Dean deliberately made his tone slightly disbelieving.

"No really Dean, I did" argued Sam feeling annoyed that his brother had made him feel embarrassed about it. "And it was one of the hardest essays that I had to research. The fetish communities are quite closed and it takes a lot to earn their confidence."

"I have just one question" said Dean unable to keep the smirk from his face "Did you choose the topic or was it assigned?"

"Screw you." said Sam as Dean's face broke into a roguish grin.

"I could have forgiven, chains and whips Sammy…but incest."

"Back off Dean" said Sam fighting the annoyance he suddenly felt towards his brother "I mean it."

"Ok, I'm sorry" said Dean finally relenting. He knew Sam well enough to know how far he could push him. Usually it was his responsibility as a big brother to push him well beyond that point, but Dean needed Sam to go along with him on this if he was ever going to find the tall woman with the thigh high red boots.

"Perhaps the scene will be different here because there is such a transitory population?" said Dean hoping to bring Sam back to his.

"Transitory population?" said Sam looking back at Dean in surprise "When did you start using words like transitory population?"

"You don't have the monopoly on using big words here pal. I can use them too." said Dean slightly disgruntled.

"Where did you hear it?" questioned Sam "Television or Radio?"

Dean held his head up high "Actually for your information I read it in the newspaper? You know I'm a lot smarter than you think I am. I could have gone to college if I'd wanted too!"

"Really" said Sam looking at his brother with interest "What would you have majored in."

Dean shrugged slightly pushing the door to the Laundromat open "Co-eds or course!"

Sam shook his head slightly ignoring the pain it caused him and followed his brother into the Laundromat. Within minutes Dean had befriended a little old lady who was doing her weekly washing. Usually it only lead to the boys borrowing a cup full of laundry powder and a few sheets of fabric softener, but this woman was so enthralled by Dean's attention that she insisted on doing his laundry for him…Sam's as well.

Sam sat back and watched how his brother chatted with the hunched over woman. Her skin was pail and flaky and her back was badly stooped but she lit up under Dean's attention. If Sam didn't see with his own eyes how much pleasure Dean was giving this generous old woman, he would have though that his brother was completely shameless. But there was clearly a trade going on here.

For two loads of laundry this woman got a couple of hours of attention from a young man who was happy to listen to her stories. Sam had to hand it to Dean, he may not have a way with all people, but he certainly had a way with women…all women.

When they were finished, Dean and Sam walked the old woman home and carried her freshly done washing up to her apartment for her. Sam was half expecting an invitation to lunch, but Dean managed to extricate them with some fictitious meeting they had to get to before it came to disappointing her.

Back down on the street Dean turned to Sam "What a cool old lady" and there was genuine affection in his voice.

"Would you still think she was cool if she hadn't done all of your laundry and folded it all neatly for you too?" asked Sam despite knowing that he probably would.

"Hey" Dean argued "Be nice, she cleaned and folded your clothes too!"

With that he headed off towards where the Impala had been parked and once again Sam was left shaking his head at his older brother.

"In every town." said Sam incredulously "In every town we go to, you manage to find some pretty young thing or some matronly woman who seems happy enough to do your dirty laundry for you… how is that possible? I mean the laws of probability dictate that on at least one occasion there would be no women in the damn place, but somehow you always find one?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly "It's a gift"

* * *

The brother's walked down the street, idly exchanging banter and trying to trip each other up or shoulder each other off the side walk.

"They look happy" she said as she watched them from her vantage point on a bus stop bench on the other side of the street.

"So" said her taller companion, deliberately looking anywhere else but at the brothers who passed blissfully unaware of their scrutiny.

"Joy can sometimes be dangerous. It can breed complacency." she said watching them and feeling a tingle of anticipation unfurl in her tiny stomach.

"I just don't get all of the waiting and watching stuff." said her companion, bitting at her nails that had been coloured in black with a magic marker. "If you are as powerful as you keep telling me, why don't you just make them do what you want?"

"Bending someone to your will – isn't power it is domination" she said her impish voice sounding strange expressing such adult words. "and the problem with domination is that there is always someone out there whose will is stronger."

She looked at the girl sitting next to her sharply "Do you understand what I'm saying."

She shrugged slightly and continued biting her nails.

"Listen to me and listen well" said the little voice with a harshness incongruous with her angelic appearance "True power comes from changing someone's will to be in line with yours, through subtle manipulation, not forcing them to your will through intimidation. You of all people should realise how powerful the mind is in controlling actions, and depending on how you hold that mind you are either creating a collaborator of an enemy."

Her companion smiled back at her. "I think I understand. So like, you make people do what you want, by making them want the same thing?"

"Exactly?" she said smiling

"So how do you do that?" the taller girl asked watching the brothers get into their car with renewed interest.

"There is no science to it, it is an art form. I will teach you if you've a mind to learn, but it is an innate skill and you either have it or you don't."

The older girl watched as the car pulled away from the street.

"I'll have it" she said with the utmost confidence and her young elfin companion smiled at her with approval.

* * *

"Ok" said Dean "Seeing that you're the expert on the fetish community how do we contact them, this is Reno, there has to be a club house or bat cave or something that we can go to."

"The ones in Palo Alto, had websites, but they were fairly well hidden you really needed to know where to look, and there is always adult stores." said Sam.

Dean mulled the words over in his head for a moment, as far as he was concerned all of those options seemed really imprecise and he was a person of action. He wanted to make a plan and make it now. He had developed patience throughout his career hunting, but he didn't ever waste time he didn't have to.

"I've got a better idea" he said suddenly and looking quickly in the review mirror he did a hard u-turn down the street so they were facing the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" said Sam still holing on to the dash board from his brother's wild turn.

"We need a 'Copy House'" said Dean scanning up and down the street.

"I think there was a Kinko's not far from the Motel." replied Sam watching his brother carefully.

"That'll do" said Dean with a wicked look on his face.

"Dean what are you going to do?" asked Sam a tinge of worry colouring his voice.

"You'll see" said his brother, throwing Sam a look that would shame the Devil.

Sam waited in the Impala with the window down, trying to ignore the way that the Nevada sun was warming up the black car like an oven. He drummed an impatient rhythm on the door, watching the door to Kinko's on the other side of the road.

All he could see was Dean leaning casually on the counter while the petite little assistant moved between him and the machines that were operating behind her. Sam thought that the waiting wouldn't be so bad if he knew what he was waiting for, but Dean had been annoyingly tight lipped about it.

Sam began to hum a tuneless song as he tried to distract himself from his growing irritation. Finally Dean stood upright and Sam watched as he left Kinko's and jogged across the road dodging the traffic that had been steadily increasing.

He slid into the car and gave his brother a Cheshire cat grin.

"Amelia" he said looking back at Kinko's where the young woman was looking at where he had gone, she hurriedly returned back to work as she saw their eyes back on her. "is a particularly accommodating young woman, and a very talented designer."

With that he tossed Sam a perspex ID and a small stack of business cards. Sam pulled the idea from the stack that was secured by and elastic band and looked at his face looking back at him.

"Sam Stevens, Photographer: Rolling Stone Magazine" he read off the small card "Aw come on Dean, you've got to be kidding me!"

"Not at all my doubting brother." retorted Dean "Never underestimate the allure of fifteen minutes of fame."

"What the hell are you talking about Dean? What are you planning?"

Dean looked at his brother and smiled "You'll see." and he laughed slightly as Sam groaned with exaggerated annoyance.

Dean made his way to Virginia Street and pulled up in front of Circus Circus handing the valet the keys and giving the small man a stern look of warning. He watched as his baby disappeared into a cunningly disguised driveway and then turned with Sam and entered the Casino.

On either side of the lobby to the hotel where stores, designer stores offering the lucky a chance to purchase a new fur by Channel or some Harry Winston diamonds. Dean whistled slightly at the opulence and walked with Sam towards the massive foyer that was the hotels check in counter.

Sam followed one step behind, prepared for Dean to do just about anything, Dean had stayed completely tight lipped about what his was planning so Sam had just reconciled himself to follow his brother where ever that might lead.

Dean walked over to the check in counter and smiled at the highly groomed young woman in her maroon uniform.

"Hi" he said with a disarming smile "I was wondering do you have a concierge's desk?"

"Yes we do" replied the woman behind the desk with a smile that made her cheek bunch like she was holding nuts in the side of her face. "Are you a guest here?"

Dean smile again "Not yet" he said handing the girl on of his cards "I'm here on assignment and I need to speak to your concierge to see if they can supply me with the things that I need."

The woman studied the card for a moment and Sam felt that tension in his stomach where their whole deception could be blown in a matter of moments.

"Of course Mr York" she finally said with a smile "The concierge desk is over in that far corner near the entrance to the gamming lounge and your concierge on duty is Sheryl. Should you need a room, please feel free to come back and see me and I will be happy to accommodate."

"Thank you" said Dean giving the women a wink, that on anyone else might of seemed slimy but on Dean it was oddly charming.

Sam followed Dean towards the Concierge's desk intrigued now that their persona's seemed to be established.

As Dean and Sam approached the desk a pretty young woman in the same maroon uniform as the woman at the others desk, looked up and smiled at them.

"You must be Sheryl right?" said Dean walking forward and casually leaning on the concierge's desk.

The girl's smiled broadened at the sound of her name "That's right, how can I help you?"

Again Dean fished into his pocket and pulled out a business card.

"My names Dean and I'm a reporter with Rolling Stone Magazine. This here is my photographer Sam and we're doing a story on the people who live and work in party towns like Vegas and Reno. We drove up from Vegas yesterday and we were wondering if you could spare us a few minutes for an interview?"

Sheryl looking slightly taken back by the prospect of being interviewed, but the slight signs of delight showed even through her surprise.

"You want to interview me…why me?" she said her town changing slightly from her professional hospitality tone to one of pleasant surprise.

"Well, in all honesty, while we were in Vegas we interviewed, show girls, bar tenders , croupiers the works, but we found that the people with the most interesting storied were generally the concierge's. So what do you say, can you spare us about fifteen minutes at some point?"

Dean smiled at her again, looking at her with the kind of hopeful eyes that he had perfected over years of talking with woman. Sam had to smile because he watched the woman's expression change as she looked between the business card and Dean. He could almost see the moment where she decided to give the interview, but to her credit, she kept them waiting a heartbeat longer.

"I go on my lunch break in about half I guess we could do it then."

"Great" said Dean with enthusiasm "How about we buy you lunch for your trouble, where would you like to go?"

Sheryl smiled in delight at the prospect "Why don't you go up to the Americana Café, up on the Mezzanine level and I'll join you there as soon as I can."

"Perfect" said Dean "We'll see you there."

Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder, keeping a fond eye on Sheryl as they departed and headed into the Casino proper. When they were out of hearing distance Sam leaned down to Dean and asked "What makes you think that the Concierge will know about fetish clubs?"

"Trust me" said Dean with a smile on his lips "The Concierge of big Casino and hotel like this has probably been asked for just about everything at one point or another. People go a bit stupid when they have the prospect of winning big money or they have won big money. They start to think that they can make all of their dreams come true in a place like this. Besides, if she doesn't know, then she'll know someone that does guaranteed."

Sam had to admit, that made a lot of sense and he had to concede that when it came to investigative prowess, Dean had a real skill. He may not have been as learned as Sam, but he had a street savvy that Sam would probably never posses.

The brother made their way to the café where they had set up the rendezvous and ordered a couple of drinks while they waited for Sheryl.

Dean was about to order his second beer when he saw Sheryl walk through the restaurant towards them. She really was a beautiful creature with brown hair that had natural touches of gold in it. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were a hazel colour. She had removed her tie and uniform jacket and had opened her blouse to reveal a pair of small but firm breasts pushed to a nice shape by a strategically wired and padded bra.

She sank down in the chair next to Sam and smiled warmly at the brothers.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." she said

Both Dean and Sam smiled at her,

"Not at all" said Dean "we were just figuring out what we were going to have ?"

"If you're a fan I'd recommend the chicken pot pie" Sheryl said taking a cursory glance at the menu as if she knew it intimately "they're really good here.

A waitress came over, giving Sheryl a nod of acknowledgement and proceeded to take their orders before collecting up all the menus and moving away.

"Ok" said Sheryl taking a sip from her coke and settling in "What is your story about again?"

"Well we're doing this piece on what it is really like to live and work in real party towns. As I mentioned before we drove up from Vegas yesterday and we'll be leaving for Lake Tahoe probably tomorrow and we are just interviewing people who work and live hear."

"It sounds like an interesting story?" Sheryl said

"Actually it is" said Sam feeling that now would be the perfect time to contribute "People who work in these places certainly have some really great experiences."

"Some really wild one too." said Dean

"I'll bet" said Sheryl with a smile as she took another delicate sip from her coke.

"So tell us about you" asked Dean pulling a pad and pencil out of the pocket of his jacket for affect.

"Well" she started her eyes looking at the ceiling as she considered her words " I was training to be a dancer in Pittsburgh and one of my friends got a job dancing at the MGM Grand. I knew I was never going to make a major dance company so I thought I'd try my luck in Vegas as a show girl. I did that for a couple of years but then I tore my cruciate ligament and just could never quite recover properly."

"Wow that bites" said Dean

"Actually it wasn't so bad, I mean I got to dance for a few years at least and while I was recovering I found a job at the Circus Circus in Vegas as a personal carer for VIPs. That is great fun and you can earn a lot more doing that than you can dancing. So I guess it all works out in the end."

"What does a personal carer do?" asked Sam

"When we get regular high rollers, the hotel supply them with a personal assistant, to pretty much organise anything they need. You're on call 24/7 and you get asked to do just about anything."

"Anything?" said Dean raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Sheryl smiled in full understanding "I've certainly been asked." she said, but Dean noted that she deliberately left out how she had answered.

"So how did you become a concierge here in Reno?" asked Sam leaning forward in interest. He found himself liking this girl, she was a strange blend of demure and sexy and she was completely candid and open about herself.

"I was seeing this guy in Vegas who worked in the hotel, well we had this really messy break up and I was going to quit, but my boss offered me a transfer to Reno. I had nothing holding me to Vegas so I moved here. I've been here about two years now."

"Do you prefer being a concierge to being a VIP carer?" asked Dean looking up as their food was bought to the table.

"Oh, I'm still a VIP carer, it is just such a demanding job because you are on constant call, that we do one week a month at the concierge's desk for a little normalcy." she said thanking the waitress who had laid down her food in front of her.

"Alright" said Dean "Let's get to the juicy part, what is the craziest thing that you have ever been asked to do while working?"

The woman stopped for a moment considering the question "That's a really hard one because I get asked all sorts of really crazy stuff, some of our high rollers have very particular needs."

"Like?" prompted Sam looking at Sheryl expectantly

"Well, there was this one guy, Card player from Detroit. He really wanted a Hot Dog, but he would only buy them from this street vender in Detroit, so I had to take the jet and go and get this guy right off the street and fly him back here so that our man could have his hot dog just the way he liked it."

"No way" exclaimed Dean baulking at the effort that had been taken for a hot dog.

"Actually that's pretty tame, I mean annoying and weird but in the long run pretty tame." she said between mouthfuls of her pie.

"Do people ask you to set them up with hookers and stuff like that?" asked Dean

"All the time" said Sheryl

"So what do you do?" asked Sam

"Well for the high rollers, we have a few agencies that we use who are discreet and the girls are always really beautiful and really clean, but when your just on the desk, we get a lot of bachelor groups who want girls to party with. We generally let the performers know, first just in case any of them want to make a few bucks and then we got outside to a couple of pimps that we know."

"Don't the performers get offended?" asked Sam intrigued by the inner working of the Casino and Hotel industry of Reno.

"No not really." said Sheryl casually "Some of them dance part time at places like Club Eden and the Kitten Club anyway. Most bachelor groups are just looking for strippers or dancers for a good time so that they can drink themselves stupid and wake up with the hangover from hell. No body does anything they don't want to."

"Fair enough" said Sam surprised by how casually all of this was discussed.

The trio continued chatting as they ate their meal and Sheryl related storied that made the brothers both cringe and laugh out loud, but none seemed to touch on any of the information that the brothers were after.

As the plates were being cleared two women walked up to the table, both wearing figure hugging dresses and heels that made them an at least three inches taller. One was blonde with a perfectly straight short bob and the other was an Asian girl with beautiful almond eyes and long black hair that touched her lower back.

"Hey Sheryl" called the blonde as they approached, "Who are your friends?"

Sheryl looked up when her name was called "Oh hey Ronnie, this is Dean and Sam" she looked at the brothers "Gentlemen, these are my colleagues Ronnie Bassa and Suki Tatsumoto."

The brothers nodded at the new arrivals smiling as they considered the three beautiful women, all very different, but the Winchester's could certainly appreciate what one of the employment requirements for a VIP carer was.

"Dean is a reporter from Rolling Stone, and he is doing a story on people who work in party towns." explained Sheryl

"That sound intriguing" said Suki, and Dean heard the sultry timbre of her voice, with only the merest hint of an accent.

"I've just been telling them about some of the more interesting aspects of our jobs." said Sheryl with the hint of a devilish smile on her lips.

She suddenly caught sight of the clock hanging over on the wall and she stood up quickly.

"Damn" she exclaimed loudly "I had to be back ten minutes ago." she looked at the two women who had just joined them and there was some unspoken message passed between colleagues as she asked "If you two aren't busy right now, would you mind looking after Dean and Sam, I've got to fly, Marcus is going to kill me."

"Sure" said Ronnie smiling at her friend "We'll take very good care of them."

"Well thanks Sheryl, we appreciate everything." said Dean as he and Sam both rose to bid her farewell.

"If you need anything else, I'm on the same shift tomorrow, or the girls can tell you how to reach me. Please excuse me; it was nice meeting you both."

With that she bustled out of the restaurant, leaving the two new women looking at Sam and Dean.

"So" said Dean breaking the silence of the newly formed party "Have you ladies had lunch or can we offer you something to eat."

"No we've already eaten thank you" said the Asian beauty Suki, with her sultry voice.

"But a cup of coffee would be very welcome." said Ronnie, pulling out the chair that Sheryl had vacated and sitting down next to Sam. Suki sat down next to Dean and without even a signal a waitress was at his shoulder to take their orders.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**327-Days**

**Reno – 5.09pm**

Dean handed his ticket to the Valet as he and Sam stood on the driveway in the front of Circus Circus.

"Man that was tough" said Dean his tone dripping with sarcasm "I mean having to sit with two beautiful women all afternoon while they tell you great stories…"

Sam looked at him sideways a small smile tugging at his lip "Oh the humanity." he said in a droll monotone. "I wish all of our hunts were this tough."

The Impala pulled up in front of them looking buffed and polished and Dean looked at it with open mouthed surprise.

"What happened to my car?" he asked the valet.

"Complimentary clean and polish." said the valet with a crocked smile "courtesy of Sheryl."

Dean's smile broadened as he looked between his sparkling car and the cheeky smile of the valet.

"We hope Rolling Stone Magazine comes back to Circus Circus again soon." said the valet with a wink.

"You bet we will." said Dean fishing a twenty from his pocket and slipping it to the smiling valet who held the door for him.

"Thank you sir." said the Valet as he closed the door with the appropriate amount of force.

Before pulling away Dean gave Sam a look of absolute delight.

"I love this town." he said feeling impassioned and all that could be heard in response was Sam's laughter as they pulled away from the casino monolith.

"Ok Sherlock so we have the names of two possible clubs, where too now?" asked Sam as he watched the people walking up and down the gambling strip.

"Now?" said Dean "Let's get back to the hotel and jump on the net, now that we have names we should be able to find out where these places are. Then we look on the map and we pick the one that fits with the location where you found our Demon this morning."

"Sounds like a plan" said Sam unable to think of any better approach to use the intelligence that they had gathered through out the afternoon.

"Besides" continued Dean "Most of these places wont even open until close to midnight, I don't know about you, but I might try and catch a few z's before we head out."

"Sure" said Sam and then he slipped into silence wondering if he could sleep and pull Mike and his mother into his dream and confirm that they were on the right track.

It wasn't long before the Impala pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. Dean parked in the spot directly outside the brother's room and stopped to admire his car as he got out.

"Did I mention that I love this town." he said to Sam with a wide grin as Sam worked to unlock their room.

Opening the door Sam realised that the house keeper had been as both the beds were neatly made and there was fresh coffee cups on the mini bar fridge. He slipped his jacket off and tossed it on the satin black bed covers then sat down at the small table and pulled out his laptop.

Once he had net connection, Sam did a few attempts at finding these two clubs. One of the clubs the girls discussed had been 'The House of Pleasure and Pain." When Sam found the website listing at first it simply appeared as if it were a Tattoo and piercing parlour, but as he moved his mouse around the screen, he realised that there were hidden links and when he hit on it, they asked him for a password to access.

Dean threw a couple of words at him to see if they got lucky, but it seemed the only thing they ended up doing was making each other laugh at the ludicrous suggestions. The boys discussed it and figured that the tattoo parlour and shop would probably be at the same location as the club, so they pulled out the tourist map of Reno and looked up the address.

Dean pointed to the map at where the hotel is, and then circled on the map the address of the tattoo parlour. Sam looked at it trying to give what he felt this morning some form of geographical bearing.

"No, that's not right" he finally said shaking his head. "I'm sure I felt people on the strip and that is entirely on the wrong side. I think it would need to be somewhere over here." As he spoke Sam moved his finger on the opposite side of Virginia Street.

"Ok, let's look up the other name and see what we get. What was it called again?" asked Dean.

"Wicked" supplied Sam typing the name into his computer.

"Oddly appropriate wouldn't you say?" remarked Dean looking at the thousands of entries that Sam's search returned. Sam tried narrowing it down by region, but there was just too many sites ranging from the porn sites that one would imagine to the radical Christian sites that warned against wickedness.

"This is ridiculous" said Dean with a sigh "We are never going to find the club this way."

"Hang on" said Sam taking a moments pause. "I think I have another way."

Dean watched as Sam typed in 'Reno Chamber of Commerce'

"Wait a minute, how is that going to help us?"

Sam looked up at his brother with a slight smirk on his face. "It they are a registered business, they'll be listed with the Chamber of Commerce."

"What are the chances of a business like that not operating under the radar?" argued Dean, but he was quickly silent as he saw the club details appear on the site, complete with their business numbers and street address.

"I take it back Sam." relented Dean "You're a frigging genius?"

"I figured given the number of pubs and clubs here, it would be very difficult for any club to be able to get through under the radar."

"Ok" said Dean "What's that address?"

"Record Street" said Sam "Off East 4th Street."

Dean followed 4th Street on the map until he found the tiny street backing on to the railway lines.

"Bingo" he said showing Sam the map where his finger pointed.

"It seems in the right area." confirm Sam and looked at his brother with a question in his eyes.

"Well I think we should rest up and hit this joint after midnight." said Dean resolutely.

"You don't think we should check this place out first?" questioned Sam.

"We might tip our hand." said Dean although what that meant he wasn't entirely sure. He just didn't want to go racing down there and give the demon any chance of recognising them and perhaps taking off. He knew that Sam had contact with the Demon, and while he didn't understand if that now meant the Demon knew what Sam looked liked, he did want to take any chances.

Sam stood shutting the curtains that like almost everything in the room were an outrageous shade of pink, when Dean's phone wailed into life. Dean looked down not immediately recognising the number, but he flicked it open none the less.

"Hello" he said his voice stern as if anticipating an enemy.

"Hey Dean, how's it going?" rasped the voice on the other end and Dean recognised it immediately.

"Hey Sarg!" he said with a smile in his voice "Good to hear from you."

"Yeah well enough with the pleasantries" said the gruff old sergeant "Anyone listening might mistake us for a couple of fairies."

Dean couldn't help but laugh slightly at Adam's caustic nature. "Ok, what can I do for you Adam?"

"It's actually more what I can do for you." said the whiskey and cigarettes voice that without the visage accompanying it, sounded more and more like Clint Eastwood the more Dean listened to it.

"Hannah called a minute ago, she made it in to Denver but she had a thought while she was on the plane and wants me to send you something that she thinks might help."

"Alright." said Dean aware that Sam was watching him closely "What is it?"

"You want me to tell you and ruin the surprise?" replied Adam drolly.

"I guess not" said Dean with a laugh "I take it is something good then?"

"She wants me to Fed-Ex down to you one of the daggers from her collection down in the basement. Seems to think it can help you, I just need to know where to send it?"

With mild surprise Dean rattled off the name and address of the hotel and was assured by Adam that he would send it express so it should be there tomorrow at some point.

"Just one thing Sarg before you go" questioned Dean "Why didn't the Doc ring herself."

Dean heard Adam chuckle on the other end of the phone "She's a really smart girl that one, but not always the most practical. She let the battery run down on her cell phone and couldn't pull your number out of it."

Dean chuckled slightly at the idea too. On so many things the Doc just seemed infallible. It was nice to know that she had moments of mortal weakness too.

"Thanks Adam."

"You two take care ok. Call if you need reinforcements." and with that the older man was gone.

Sam looked at Dean with questioning eyes. "What was all that about?"

Dean looked up at his brother noting the tight lipped expression on his face.

"It was Adam" said Dean folding his phone up and putting it on the night stand next to his bed. "Apparently the Doc is sending us a dagger from her collection that she thinks will help."

"Help with what?" asked Sam in the same tight tone.

"I don't know Sam, Adam didn't exactly elaborate" protested Dean, his voice sounding suddenly tired.

"Why would she do that Dean?" Sam asked lying on his bed and folding his hands behind his head.

"She's just trying to help us Sam."

Sam slipped into silence and Dean could feel the tension in the room escalate. He didn't exactly feel like being in the same room as his brother at the moment, there was something going on between them, that he hoped perhaps a little bit of distance might help, so he stripped off his clothes and headed for the bathroom for a shower. They had been doing so well recently, but as soon as anything related to the Doc came up, Sam just shut down.

Dean started the water running and waited until it was a warm steady stream before climbing in. He was aware of the broken tile in the wall where Sam had struck it earlier that day and he tried not to let his anger at his brothers' reaction overwhelm him. As the water streamed over him, Dean wondered if this was how a cheating man felt, still devoted to his loving wife because of their ties and history, but strangely exhilarated by the prospect of a new woman.

He didn't want there to be animosity between he and his brother and he idly wondered if he should tell the Doc that he and Sam needed to go their own way. That would solve his problem, but the prospect of never seeing or speaking to her again seemed dismal. He had sort of reconciled himself to the fact that their could never be anything between he and the Doc, she wasn't just out of his league, she was in an entirely different sport, but she represented hope for him and he didn't want to give that up.

And in the quiet moments where he allowed himself to dream of lives that he might have lived if his mother hadn't died, if his father hadn't become a hunter, Dean added to those a life where he could stand up and entertain the idea of being with the Doc. He thought of her hair and the curves of her lush body and felt his groin stir in response, rather than indulging the ideas though, he backed off the hot water and stood for a few moments under the bracing cold water.

* * *

Sam reached for sleep eagerly, hoping that he might be able to find his mother. Hell at this rate he wouldn't mind even shooting the breeze with Mike. Logically he couldn't understand why the prospect of his brother talking with Hannah, upset him so much, but something about it really got his dander up.

He felt slightly betrayed by Dean, even though he knew rationally, that there was no way in the world that Dean would be conspiring against him with the Doc, but Sam couldn't quite get past the hold that she seemed to have his brother. The only other person that Dean seemed to be as responsive to was their father and that at least had the tie of blood to explain it.

Sam knew that he was dreaming now, but the Victorian house with its innumerable rooms was no where to be seen. Instead he was back at the apartment that he shared with Jess in Palo Alto and he could hear her in the kitchen crashing through the pot cupboard.

"Sam are you up yet?" she called from the kitchen and Sam felt his heart quicken in his chest. It had been nearly two years since he had heard her voice, but he knew he would know it anywhere.

"Yes" he called back tentatively, knowing that this was a dream but loathed to stop it. For some reason he needed to see Jess, he needed to look at someone who loved him above every other person in the world.

Then she was there, her tall lithe frame leaning casually against the door frame.

"Liar Liar pants on fire." she said smiling at where he lay in the tangle of sheets. "Come on, get up we need to get going."

"Ok" said Sam holding out his arms for assistance "Help me up"

Rolling her eyes towards heaven, Jess moved over and grabbed his wrists to tup him up, Sam let her pull all of his weight so that she had to lean quite far back to try and shift him and when she was just beyond the balance point, he reversed his grip and pulled her back into the bed, rolling until he had her pinned on the mattress. Jess laughed, half-heartedly hitting him on the shoulder.

"No fair" she whined "You tricked me."

Sam smiled remembering the way she laughed and the way her smile lit up her whole face "All's fair in love and war baby." he teased and leant down and kissed her with a passion that swelled inside him like a tidal wave.

Jess wrapped her arms about Sam's neck and kissed him back. Consciously Sam knew that this was all a dream, but he couldn't help the surging love in his chest. The unabashed joy he got from simply holding Jess in his arms. She was the light in a life that was so often conducted in darkness and he loved her more for that.

The knowledge that this was a dream also renewed a wave of grief for Sam. No matter how much he loved this, longed for this, he knew in his heart of hearts that it wasn't real and as soon as he woke up, Jess would be gone.

Jess seemed to feel the shift in him; she broke from their kiss and looked inquisitively into his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she said cupping his cheek in her hand.

"Nothing" said Sam on a sigh "I just really miss you, that's all."

"Well that's sweet Sam" she replied with a bemused look on her face "But I was only in the kitchen for a few minutes."

She kissed him gently again and then tried to sit up "Come on Mister, we need to get up and have some breakfast or we are going to be late to my folks place."

Sam sighed and rolled off of her onto his back. "Can't we skip it? We can catch up with you folks later."

Jess kissed his cheek again and disentangled herself from his grip. "No we can't skip it. Darren's going to be there and he's brining his new girlfriend Eve along."

"Wait" said Sam pushing up onto one elbow "You mean Eve the head case?"

"You and my father might think so. But I like her." said Jess

"Jess, she is a nuttier than a fruitcake." retorted Sam getting out of bed and following Jess to the kitchen.

"I know that she may be a little different" protested Jess "But she makes Darren happy, and you can't begrudge someone else their happiness Sam, life is just too short."

Jess paused and looked over her should at Sam gifting him with a mischievous smile "Even if she is a head case."

The words hit Sam like a blow to the stomach. While their current conversation wasn't about Dean and Hannah, it was oddly applicable and Sam had to confess that Jess's words were right. If Hannah offered Dean even the smallest amount of comfort, he could not begrudge his brother that. He may not like her, but unless he thought she was endangering either Dean or himself, he would keep his mouth shut.

"Thanks Jess" said Sam quietly smiling a smile of both guilt and understanding.

"For what?" she said giving him a quizzical look.

"For always knowing the right thing to say."

Jess shrugged her shoulder casually "I'm a woman; it comes with the job. So what do you want scrambled eggs of French toast?"

"Eggs" said Sam sitting down at the table and watching as Jess danced around the kitchen chatting about various trifles.

Sam stopped trying to control the dream and just let it happen, his dream morphed a couple of times into various scenarios, but always Jess was with him. Finally he found himself again lying down on their bed. He was fully clothed and his body felt bone weary.

He knew where this was going, knew instinctively that this was the time where he had returned after his hunt with Dean. Sam felt the first drops hit his forehead, but instead of opening his eyes, he screwed them shut even tighter. This had been a wonderful dream and there was no way in the world he was going to ruin it by opening his eyes to find Jess trapped on the ceiling.

When the second drop of blood stuck his forehead, Sam reached inside of himself and reached for consciousness. He would rather be awake than relive the sight of Jess' death. As he opened his eyes the room was pitch black. He looked over to see Dean asleep in his own bed. Like all good soldiers Dean had trained himself to take his sleep when he could get it, and Sam was grateful that he could take a few minutes to figure out what he would say to his brother about his earlier behaviour.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**327-Days**

**Reno – 11:43pm**

Dean woke up, feeling the strange transition from being asleep to being wide awake. It was the kind of thing that happened to him when there was something pending that he had to do. He looked around the darkened room and could see a figure sitting on Sam's bed. Dean was lucky to have seen it at all, as it was dressed all in black, but the opacity of its blackness made it distinguishable in the darkened room.

Dean reached for the lamp on his bed stand and turned it on, throwing light across the room and illuminating Sam were he sat quietly on the end of his bed.

"Hey Sammy, you ok man?" questioned Dean pushing himself up onto his shoulder.

Sam turned to look at his brother and his eyes looked so dark they were almost black, in fact there was something about Sam, the darkness of his hair and clothes and the paleness of his skin that looked almost sinister.

"Yeah" he said quietly giving Dean a weak smile.

"Ok then" said Dean slightly bemused but happy to drop it if Sam didn't feel too inclined to speak any further. "What time is it?"

"A little before 12." said Sam again his voice strangely hollow.

"Are you sure you're alright Sammy?" Dean through back the bed clothes and sat up looking at his brother square in the face.

"I was a real dick earlier" said Sam, a look of guilt crossing his face "I'm sorry" he finished.

"Hey" said Dean with a roguish grin "Don't sweat it. Give me five to get dressed and then we'll hit the road."

"Sure" said Sam again quietly.

Dean chose to dress like Sam, pulling on a pair of black jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt. He pulled on his boots and went to grab his trusty leather jacket, but decided to go for the suit jacket instead.

"Alright Johnny Cash" he said to Sam "Let's hit the road."

Sam smiled, and followed his brother out to the car.

"We look like we're going to a funeral" commented Sam as he opened the passenger's side door.

"Well let's just hope it's not ours." said Dean and he was suddenly filled with the horrible thought that if he were to die tonight he would have a very poor showing at his funeral. Bobby would be there and perhaps Ellen. He guessed that the Doc would probably come and with her maybe Adam, but that would be about it.

"Ain't that a sorry state of affairs." he muttered as he climbed into the car.

"What?" questioned Sam.

"Nothing" said Dean dismissively "Forget I said anything."

"You know how to get to this place." said Sam looking at he brother expectantly.

"It's all in here." murmured Dean as he absently tapped at his temple.

The Impala sped out of the hotel parking lot, Dean having chosen a way to get across the strip without driving in the heart of the gambling district. It was kind of the scenic route but it would certainly prove faster in the long run.

As they crossed Virginia Street on 4th Street, Dean noticed the immediate change from hotels and gamming into industrial estates. It was poorly lit in this part of town, which made the lights from the strip stand out in stake contrast. They were so bright that the whole street seemed to radiate a multicoloured aura.

Dean pulled into Record Street noting the factories and storehouses on either side of him. As they pulled up at the dead end the headlights shone onto the rail line that was perhaps 10 feet from where they were.

Dean turned the Impala in the circle at the end of the street and looked to the buildings on either side of the road. They looked more like factories than clubs and they were pitch black inside.

"This is the right street, but it doesn't look like its here." said Dean scanning up and down the street.

"Its here" said Sam with authority "You just need to know where to look."

"What you mean like a hidden entrance?" questioned Dean.

"What were you expecting" said Sam with a smile on his face "A neon sign that said 'Door to S&M club here!'"

"Well yeah…kind of." said Dean slightly sheepishly.

"Remember these are fairly insular little communities." said Sam "They don't like people just rolling in off the street to satisfy their curiosity. Let's just hang for a while, and see if anyone comes along."

The two brothers sat motionless in the darkness of the street. The black car and their black clothes in the darkened street just made them one more shadow amongst many. Twenty minutes slipped by and Sam watched as Dean started getting a little restless behind the wheel. He thought they should give it at least another ten minutes and then if nothing happened he would suggest that they get out and have a look.

The thought had only crossed his mind when the darkened street ahead will filled by the glare of headlights.

"Here we go" said Dean quietly.

They watched as the oncoming car turned down a narrow alley a short distance in front of them, and then it made another turn between buildings that put it out of sight from where the Impala was parked.

"Come on" said Sam quickly pushing out of the car, Dean following his lead.

The brothers hurried to follow the car, keeping to the shadows and moving quickly. They jogged down the alley and then, following the cars path, turned down and even narrower alley between two buildings that was only barely wide enough for a single car to get through. The brothers walked down having to adjust there eyes to the darkness of the alley.

Dean studied the building on either side and saw nothing but brick wall. He picked up his pace a little and continued to jog until the alley took an abrupt right turn. Dean and Sam leant up against the side of the building and looked around the corner, careful not to give away their position to anyone that might be in the alley.

This alley was slightly wider and allowed for parking on one side and for another car to drive past, sure enough the vehicle that they had seen turn down earlier was parked on the curb, but there was not sign of the driver anywhere. Cautiously Dean went around the corner, keeping his eyes peeled, for anyone that might be lingering in the alley. For all they knew they were following some poor night watchman

But then Dean heard a heavy door open and he heard music coming out, it almost seemed from under the street. Sam tapped his shoulder and pointed to a spot in a highly shadowed part of the building. Dean squinted and couldn't quite see what Sam was pointing at, but as they moved closer, Dean realised it was a narrow opening in the building that lead to a staircase down below the street level. He and Sam walked cautiously towards it and to Dean's horror the stairwell was narrow allowing only one person to access it at any given time.

As he looked down the stairwell to the door beneath, the heavy metal door reminded him of the thick door the protected Hannah's basement back at her cottage in Rhode Island. It must have been made of steel and had heavy rivets around its edges.

Dean threw Sam a careful look and then straightening his jacket he headed down the stairs. There was no doubt in his mind that this was in the right place, now all they had to do was get in. He had a brief musing that on the other side of the door was a man mountain that looked either like a gorilla or the missing link. But when he pressed the buzzer and the peep flap was shifted across he was met with a pair of long lashed pretty green eyes.

"Can I help you" said the voice in a subtle southern drawl. She was not impolite, but her voice wasn't exactly welcoming either.

Thinking quickly on his feet Dean responded "Ronnie from Circus Circus, suggested that we stop by while we are in town." He smiled in spite of his internal misgivings about this place.

"Ronnie?" said the southern girl "Never heard of her."

"Really?" said Dean mildly looking at Sam briefly "Ronnie Bassa is somewhat memorable, I'm sure you'd know her if you saw her, tall, leggy, blonde, not unlike yourself, I'm sure."

The woman's long lashed eyes narrowed slightly as if she was considering Dean's words.

"I'm surprised Ronnie didn't bring you down herself." said the woman watching him closely.

"Well we know Ronnie from a previous stay and she was already engaged with another client. Suki is looking after us at the moment and she regretfully declined to come when we suggested it."

Dean remembered Suki's distaste when they were discussing the clubs and he knew that the only way that he was going to get past this gatekeeper was to liberally blend his fiction with a whole lot of truth.

"Well that doesn't surprise me." said the southern woman and with a snap of metal on metal the peep hole was closed, with what seemed to be slightly excessive force. For a moment Dean wasn't sure if the door was going to open for them, but then the sound of internal gears could be heard turning and the heavy door was pulled open allowing them entrance.

"Please come in gentlemen." said the woman with the drawling southern accent and Dean had to give her a tight lipped smile to stop himself going slacked jawed at her outfit.

The hostess wore a long black leather skirt that had a split all the way up to her hip bone. As she moved, leather suspenders could be seen holding up the stockings that covered her long shapely legs. Dean could have been mistaken but as they walked in, he thought he also saw, the white gleam of a perfectly shave pubis peaking out from under her skirt. On the top she wore a leather half cup bra, that pushed her dusky pink nipples out impudently and in each nipple, a large ring swung from the piercing on either side.

The whole affect was topped off with a studded dog collar, and as Dean suspected correctly, her blonde locks had been piled up on her head, and were held in a messy sort of bun by two shiny chop sticks. She looked a strange cross between, elegant, debauched and sexy as hell.

Sam smiled also as he passed through the door and joined Dean at the entrance of the club where they just stood for a moment taking in the place. Like the hostess it was the odd combination of debauchery and elegance. The walls were all black and the furniture was all black lacquered with plush red upholstery.

There was a bar at one end and at the other a stage, where a show of the most unbridled exhibitionism was going on. The bar only had a sparse spattering of guest in it, but Dean suspected that hidden behind the black walls there was a whole heap of people out of sight.

The Hostess sidled up between the brothers and leant in close so that she could be heard over the music that was coming from the show going on stage.

"Let me just explain some of the house rules gentlemen. We have seven different sections here at Wicked depending on your particular interest. You're looking at the 'Lust Bar' here and it is the central hub of Wicked. The doors on the right hand side will lead to the Gluttony, Pride and Avarice rooms and on the left are the Sloth, Envy and Wrath rooms. Now please be aware that a Safe Word policy exists in all the rooms except the Wrath room. If you go into that area, then you do so at your own risk."

At this both Dean and Sam looked at the woman and she gave them a meaningful look and paused to give them an opportunity to ask questions.

"If you would like to go into the bar and order some drinks, the menu on the table will list what each of the room's offer. If you have any further questions or any special request you can come and see me at any time, my name is Daphne."

When she had finished speaking, Dean just nodded politely and smiled at her, but when she turned to Sam, in a blur of motion he had hooked his finger into one of the rings in her nipple and pulled down almost viciously, When she went to cry out, Sam bought his mouth down hard on hers in a bruising kiss that smothered any sound.

Dean tried desperately not to look surprised by his brother's actions, but he knew he was doing a poor job of it. When Sam finally broke the kiss he asked in an intense voice.

"Are you on the menu Daphne?"

The blonde smiled at him a look of absolute lust crossing her face. "Maybe" and with that she ran her tongue slowly over her lips, giving Sam a searing look and moved to go and stand back at her place by the door.

"Let's go get a drink" said Sam trying not to notice to look of absolute surprise in Dean's eyes.

"Yeah" Dean muttered almost under his breath "or a tetanus shot. What was all that about?"

Sam gave Dean a sideways look "If you don't play the game, we'll stick out like white guys in Harlem."

"The Game?" muttered Dean "I sure as hell have to read this paper that you wrote."

As they approached the bar a girl, who appeared to be completely naked except for a strange harness smiled at them. As they got close Sam stopped as an odd sense of deja'vu struck him. It wasn't as much deja'vu but something more like a memory that he couldn't place, like looking at a face that you recognise but you can't remember where from. He stopped studying the bar for a moment and then he realised exactly what it was.

The neon 'Miller' sign that sat across the bar threw out a strange yellow light. It was exactly the same sort of light that Sam had sensed in the morning when he had connected with the demon. It made him feel both better that they were on the right track, and trepidations about facing this demon. He had never experienced that kind of psychic attack as he felt this morning and he felt a moment of doubt as to whether he could handle this.

"Sam" said Dean sharply, getting his brothers attention.

"It was here." said Sam in answer to his brother's unasked question.

"Can you feel it now?" questioned Dean narrowing his eyes on all the occupants in the club.

"No" said Sam "I'm not game to try in case I give us away."

Dean nodded almost imperceptibly and stepped up to the bar.

"Two beers please."

The waitress gave him a slow smile, her small naked breast thrusting upwards between the straps of her harness.

"Domestic or Imported?"

He studied her, his eyes drifting down to her breast and then he looked back into her eyes a devilish smile on his lips.

"Let's go imported" he said pulling out some notes from a wallet "Why don't you surprise me."

"If you gentlemen would like to take a seat, I'll have them bought out to you." said the girl behind the bar and Dean winked at her in appreciation, looking at her again with lingering eyes and then heading away from the bar into the main part of the bar.

He and Sam took up a position in one of the darkened corners of the room so that they had a good view of all the occupants in the room and that both could sit with their backs to a wall. Dean looked briefly at the performers on stage. There were two men tying up a woman and all of them were naked. One of the men was deep ebony and he had the body of an athlete, while the other had coffee coloured skin and was sinewy like a dancer.

The woman on the other hand had skin that was so fair that it was almost white. Her dark hair made the contrast all the more startling. Like the girl behind the bar she too wore a harness, but hers had heavy D rings sewn in the harness at her waste, shoulders and back. As the brothers had entered, that trio had been looping lengths of rope through her harness, but it had been done with such a balletic grace, that Dean had almost failed to see the significance of this.

As the brothers watched on, they saw that the ropes had been threaded in intricate knots around the girls body and through the eyelet's of her harness and as the music throbbed with mind numbing base the two men took either one of the ropes and began to pull on them. As the slack was taken off, the ropes around the girl, pulled together, trapping her hands behind her back and pulling her legs up towards her body almost like one would truss a Christmas turkey.

Dean hadn't realise it before, but the ropes had also been looped through pullies in the ceiling and as the men pulled them tight it lifted the girl so that she was now swinging freely, tethered as she was with her hands behind her back and her knees pulled in tight to her body.

The two men tied off the ropes and then moved to where the women hung helpless tied and swinging with every movement. The men touched her, pulling at her nipples and running their hands over her body and what could only be seen as a rough seduction.

The black man caught the woman by the hips and swung her around in a graceful spin catching her after one revolution, then he held onto her with large hands and proceeded to penetrate her with his long erect penis. The woman cried out at the sudden penetration, but as her mouth opened the other man promptly put his penis in it, so that she would suckle on his erect member as he waited his turn.

After a dozen of so powerful strokes, the black man withdrew from the woman and spun her to the waiting hands of the man with the coffee colour skin. He then penetrated her and it was the black mans turn to receive ministrations from her mouth.

Dean watched on in awe at the display. He was no shrinking violet when it came to sex, he had seen his fair share of porn and certainly had his fair share of sex, but he had never in all his life seen anything like this. It was both beautiful in the grace with which it was executed and horrifying in its depravity. Despite the turmoil of his internal emotions, Dean made sure to keep his face carefully blank when their waitress arrived.

Their waitress might as well have been naked, when Dean saw what she was wearing, she was naked, it seemed like everyone else in this place, except for a leather g-string that was so tight, the lips of her labia curled around the leather straps on either side. As she bent down by the table to pour the beers into frosted glasses, Dean had to avert his eyes or he was going to wince out of sympathy for the poor flesh that the garment was cutting into.

The waitress placed their beers on the coasters with the bottles sitting beside and the looked at them expectantly.

"Would you like anything from the menu gentlemen?" she asked, her voice just a little husky.

"We haven't had a chance to look at it." said Sam in an overly terse tone, not even looking at the girl.

"Very good sir." she said, seeming completely un-phased by his manner. "I'll come back in a few minutes then."

Dean picked up the menu off the table and flipped it open. On the very first page was a description of what lay install for a patron in the seven different rooms. Apparently the 'Lust' bar was simply to fuel ones appetites, but it seemed that it was merely a transit lounge for people to stop before they reached their desired destinations.

In the 'Gluttony' room, one could have any food fetish they so desired fulfilled, the 'Sloth' room was designed for those with a voyeuristic bent, the 'Pride' room was where the dominators and submissive hooked up, the 'Avarice' room catered to all of the off beat fetishes including those with animal or shoe fetishes, the 'Envy' room was a mild torture room, and the 'Wrath' room was the hardcore S&M room. The description under the 'Wrath' room was 'Hardcore – No rules apply' and it seemed to speak volumes.

After reading the menu, Dean began to realise that the sexual ballet that was going on in front of them was the equivalent to Saturday morning cartoons in comparison to what was going on in the other sections. Dean handed the 'menu' over to Sam for him to have a look.

"If the demon is going to be anywhere it is going to be in 'Wrath'." said Dean taking a sip from his beer. It wasn't a bad beer, but he didn't really get the hype about imported beers.

"Sloth has peep holes and close circuit cameras in all the other areas. We should go in there and check it out before heading straight into 'Wrath'. I get a really bad feeling about a room where 'No rules apply'." said Sam and while he didn't say so, Dean had to agree.

They sat there for a few minutes drinking their beers and looking at the show. Both Dean and Sam took the opportunity to discreetly peruse the other visitors. To Dean it seemed strange, they all seemed normal descent sort of people, some even looking well moneyed and sophisticated and he didn't under stand the appeal that this had for them. He had expected sleazy fat men, the kind that end up with drool stains on their shirts at strip clubs, but what he saw was nothing like that. In the 'Lust' bar the patrons were mostly male, but there were a few women sitting in there as well enjoying the show. Dean had to wonder what was going on behind the closed doors.

Sam gave him a look that said without words that they should make a move, so Dean found the entrance to 'Sloth' with his eyes and made a move in that direction. Dean pushed on the door with Sam close at his shoulder and as he went through he found himself in a small foyer with a longer hall leading off of it. On the right stood a beautiful golden skinned woman in a corset that had been synched into a frighteningly acute hour glass shape. The brothers had to wonder how the woman drew breath in that thing, but she seemed to and smiled at them.

"Good evening gentlemen" she said her voice a loud whisper as if she were an usher in a theatre or something. "Are you here to see or be seen?" she said finishing with a gentle smile.

"To see." said Dean decisively. He had seen how the staff had responded to Sam's manner and he decided to defer to his brothers superior understanding of this particular community.

"Excellent" said the woman "Would you follow me please?"

As she stepped out from behind the desk, the brothers noticed that the tightly laced corset was all the woman wore except for a pair of black boots the ran all the way up her leg and exposed her skin in between the lacing that went up either side.

As Dean fell into step behind her he looked past her boots to her firm rounded arse. "I like your boots," he managed to say as his mouth became suddenly dry. In some respects he was slightly appalled at his response, but for god's sake, he was only human.

"Thank you." said the girl flashing him a smile over her shoulder "Is this your first time to 'Wicked'?"

"Yes it is" said Dean mildly "We went to 'The House of Pleasure and Pain' that last time we were here and I have to say, we were sorely disappointed."

The girl smiled at him again over her shoulder "Well you won't be disappointed here. 'Wicked' will cater to your every desire, and if you don't find something that satisfies you, then we'll arrange something that will."

She stopped at the end of the hall and waited until both Sam and Dean were with her.

"Gentle men, to your left you will find live shows, to the right you'll find our electronic room that allows you to monitor the action in all of the areas of 'Wicked' and if you go straight ahead you find your way into the labyrinth, that will allow you to utilise over 200 peep holes that we have throughout all of our rooms here at 'Wicked'. If at any point you need assistance or would like anything specific, simply press the 'on call' button that is located at each station and at periods throughout the labyrinth network and one of our hostesses will be there to accommodate."

Dean smiled and thanked her as did Sam. It amazed Dean at how polite each of the hostesses had been, it seemed to go against everything that he understood about S&M. The brother's followed the pathway to the right and found a room that had various cubicles. Another hostess was at the desk and she looked up as the brothers approached.

"Good evening gentlemen." she said with a thick eastern European accent. "Would you like a viewing room?"

"Thank you "said Dean approaching the counter.

"Would you like to share or would you like individual rooms?" she asked still smiling.

"We can share." said Dean

"And how long would you like to book the room for." asked the women her thick accent clipping the ends of her words.

"Not long" said Sam "Fifteen minutes or so."

"Very good sir." said the woman punching in something in a computer inconspicuously hidden below the counter. "That will be $75 dollars thankyou, will that be cash or charge."

Dean tried not to baulk as he handed over his credit card, it was a good thing that he didn't pay for the credit card anyway.

"Charge thanks" he said trying to sound casual.

"Very good, Mr Lewis." said the woman reading his name from the card. "I will give you a five minute warning before your time has finished, but should you wish to stay any longer, your card will be automatically charged.

"Excellent" said Dean, signing the fictitious name to the sales receipt.

The woman handed his card back to him and showed Sam and Dean to the nearest room, she opened the door and let the brothers inside and closed it after them. Sam threw the lock on the door and then took one of the two seats beside Dean.

The room was not overly large; perhaps about three times the size of an aircraft bathroom, but one whole wall had monitors on it. Each of the monitors had a label on it indicating which room network it was on, and there was a control panel on the right that allowed them to change cameras, and to zoom in and out. Dean also noted with a hint of amusement that on the counter beside the control panel was a box of tissues and some high class body lotion.

"75 Dollars for fifteen minutes" grumble Dean as he took a seat and experimentally tried out the controls "We are so in the wrong business Sam."

The brother's began viewing some of the activities in the other rooms and quickly realised that the dozen of so people out in the 'Lust' bar was but a mere fraction of the number of people who were at the club. On some views they lingered on to either look for more detail of to feed curious fascination, while others they flicked through quickly once they had established that there was no sign of the demon in there. Some Dean found amusing, others he found titillating but most he just found morbidly bizarre.

Dean and Sam focused their attention on the 'Pride', 'Envy' and 'Wrath' rooms yet there was a decided lack of coverage in the 'Wrath' room. Considering what they could see, Dean wasn't at all surprised. The camera seemed to only show the main room, and it showed what looked almost like a gang rape. There was one woman and five men embroiled in the most violent and depraved acts Dean had ever seen.

Sam shifted uncomfortably at the scenes on the screen. The woman seemed to be crying out for help, but Sam had to keep reminding himself that she had gone in there with the knowledge of what would happen, or at least he prayed that was the case. Dean felt like it was surreal and he felt somewhat detached from it like it wasn't real but a Hollywood facsimile.

"I'm kind of glad that we didn't just waltz into that." said Dean in a subdued tone.

"I hope she's alright?" whispered Sam, feeling slightly nauseated by what he saw.

"She'd have to know what would happen…wouldn't she?" Dean said voicing Sam's deep seated concern. He looked back at the screen watching as the woman struggled against her five assailants. "Christ" he whispered as doubt started to fill him.

Sam couldn't stand it any longer; he had to figure out if the woman was in there of her own volitions, or if she had been thrown to those sexual predators unsuspecting. Closing his eyes against the images assailing him he reached out with his mind trying to pinpoint the woman and get a sense of exactly what she was feeling. As soon as he opened himself, Sam was assaulted by the overwhelming emotions of this place. The people who existed here were creatures of extremes, enigmas where agony and ecstasy were so close that the lines blurred almost indefinably.

He focused trolling through all of the impressions that he got until he found a place where the overwhelming emotion was rage, he sensed the five men, their energy feeling completely repugnant to Sam and then he sensed the girl. He had to fight to hold on to his sense of her as she was so overpowered by the energy surrounding her, this wasn't just a physical domination but a spiritual one too. From her he felt agony, fear, shame and surprise but underlying that all was a sense of satisfaction…or more precisely a perverse sexual satisfaction.

This woman was no victim, and while she may not have been prepared for what was going to happen to her, she was not adverse to it either. Sam almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"She's alright, she wants to be there." said Sam, his eyes still closed double checking his impression just to be sure. This was certainly not something he wanted to get wrong.

Dean looked up at the monitors back to the scene, amazed that anyone might find any positive aspect of the violent degrading treatment he saw on there. Behind him, he heard Sam take a sharp breath and swear in a strangled voice. He looked at his brother, to see Sam's eyes scrunched tightly shut his face contorted into something close to agony. Out of instinct Dean looked between Sam and the screens, and to his horror he noticed that there was now a new figure standing dead centre in the chaos that was 'Wrath'.

Transfixed by the new comer, Dean studied the figure on the screen, she was tall, wearing a black corset and silk panties. In this place that wasn't that unusual, but the thing that Dean noticed was that her long blonde hair fell almost to the top of her thigh high red boots. Dean did a double take to make sure he was seeing the image correctly and he realised, this was no woman, this was a transvestite. She was too tall, her shoulders too wide and she had a long neck that clearly displayed a highly developed Adam's apple.

Dean looked back at Sam, hoping to draw his attention to the figure on screen, but as he looked back at Sam, he realised his brother was in a bit of trouble. Sam still had not opened his eyes and now he clutched at his stomach as if he was going to be violently ill. As Dean made to move towards his brother, hampered by the general lack of space in the observation room, some unseen force threw Sam violently backwards so that he crashed into the door of the tiny cubicle.

Dean tried to get to Sam, looking back at the monitors, but the figure just stood starring into the camera, as if it knew precisely where they were and that they had found him…her….it.

Dean made a grab for Sam, but again unseen hands pulled him out of Dean's reach, dragging him up the wall towards the ceiling in a defiant display against the laws of gravity.

Sam's eyes were open, and he began gasping for breath as if the unseen hands had caught him around the throat. Dean tried to get to Sam, but the small space and the chairs were in his road hampering his ability to manoeuvre. As he fought desperately to get to his brother, Dean heard the voice of the Hostess asking if everything was alright, but before he could respond, the lock on the door broke and Sam went flying out into the main room, knocking the hostess off her feet before crashing into the wall at the other side.

Dean watched as Sam gritted his teeth and a mask of complete and total determination fell onto his features, and he sent some unseen counter attack. Dean ignored the screaming of the hostess and looked back at the monitors, the figure standing in the midst of the writhing bodies, seemed to take a few steps backwards, but then stopped as a stormy look crossed their face.

"Watch out." called Dean, unsure exactly of what he was warning Sam, but knowing that retaliation for the last blow was on its way.

Before Sam could do anything, he was tossed sideways like a rag doll, crashing into one of the viewing rooms on the other side of the room. Dean hurried to Sam's side trying to help him to his feet, but their attacker was merely toying with them and tossed them around the room as if they were no heavier than leaves on the wind.

Dean hit the ground hard his breath being forcibly knocked from his lungs, Sam had fallen more awkwardly and was now on his back groaning slightly. Dean felt hands on him, and for a moment he couldn't tell if they were real of phantom hands, but as he looked around a small army of security men, dressed in black seemed to have emerged from out of nowhere.

Dean was unceremoniously pulled to his feet, and out of the corner of he could see the same thing happening to Sam.

"Take it easy." he cried through gritted teeth as he saw the nasty hold that the security guys had on Sam.

"Calm down please sir." said the tall man who stood before them his head shaved and his meaty arms crossed over his chest.

The way he was being held Dean couldn't see where Sam was, but he heard a violent scuffle behind him and feared that the unseen energy was attacking Sam, while he was being pinned by the security guards. There was a moment where Dean felt all of the hair stand up on the back of his neck and he tried desperately to turn and look at Sam, but he just couldn't get out of the restraining arms around him.

Out of his peripheral vision, Dean saw two of the security men, go flying towards where he was being detained and then he heard Sam's ragged cry "Stay away from me." It wasn't a command but more a plea, a plea that was unconditionally ignored. As the two men found their feet, the one who had been watching the whole display, drew a Taser out of his pocket and took aim.

"Sammy No!" cried Dean, but all he heard were the explosion of the electrode darts firing from the pack and then the thud as a body convulsed and hit the floor.

Dean reefed violently against the arms restraining him to try and get a look at Sam, and while he only managed a brief look, he could see his brothers unconscious body being lifted up by the two other security men.

The leader turned on his heel, pushed on a panel on the wall and disappeared down a secret passage hidden by the black wall panels. Dean was dragged behind him by his two muscular escorts and he had a sense that Sam was being carried out behind him.

"Sam" called Dean trying to get some response from his brother. "Sammy, talk to me."

Dean heard movement behind him and all heads, except his, turned towards it.

"Sir he's having a fit or something." said one of the guards carrying Sam, prompting Dean to desperately try to turn and look where everyone's attention had been drawn.

"Damn junkies." muttered the leader and he turned and quickened his pace.

"What should we do?" questioned the other guard carrying Sam.

"Just get them out of the club" snarled the leader "Once their out of the club it's not our problem."

Dean fought his captor all the way, just on principal. How dare they treat he and Sam like that and how dare they not offer aid to a man who so clearly needed it. Dean suddenly became aware they had come up a level and the halls had changed from the chique interior to more industrial whitewashed concrete.

He noticed that the leader unlocked a door and then he felt himself being tossed to the ground. Gravel bit into his palms as he hit the pavement hard and then he felt Sam being tossed on top of him. Dean rolled over and gave the security men hovering at the door an evil look.

"If you value your life sir." said the lead bouncer in an almost bored tone "Never return to this establishment." with that the door was slammed and Dean looked down at Sam who was still twitching as his seizure died down.

"Hang in there Sammy." whispered Dean, manoeuvring Sam's body into a more comfortable position and the looking around him to try and get his bearings. As luck would have it, the bounces had dumped them out on Record Street and Dean could see the Impala from where he was.

"I'll be back …just hang on Sam." said Dean and he hurried off down the street to get the Impala.

As fast as he was able Dean pulled the Impala up alongside Sam's prone body and manhandled him into the back seat.

"Don't worry Sammy." he said gently brushing the hair from his brother's eyes "I'll make those pricks pay…all of them."

With that Dean closed the door and jumped into the driver's seat pointing the Impala towards the hotel and driving like it was a matter of life and death. For all he knew, it was a matter of life or death.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**326-Days**

**Reno – 2:14am**

Dean manhandled Sam into their hotel room grateful that because of the hour no one was around. He laid his brother gently on the bed and checked for a pulse. He had been tempted to drive him to nearest hospital, but he had no idea what was happening with Sam so he decided to bring him back to the hotel and contact someone who might.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialled, pacing slightly as he heard the ringing on the other end. He heard the click of connection and then he heard the Doc's sleep filled voice.

"Dean? Are you alright?"

Dean took a moment to inhale and calm himself before he spoke. "That bastard struck out at us Doc, hit Sam hard. Now Sam is unconscious like he was in Rhode Island and I have no idea what is going on with him."

"Alright" replied Hannah, her voice instantly loosing the edge of sleep "Tell me what happened?"

"Based on your vision, Sam and I went looking for Thamuz at an S&M club. We used one of the voyeur rooms to scope the club and we found him. He's working as a funking trannie at this club. The next thing I know Sam is flying across the room and we're getting thrown out of the club by the fucking bouncers. They even used a fucking tazer of something on Sam I don't know I couldn't quite see and then he had some kind of seizure and this whole situation has just got so damn fucked Doc."

Dean hadn't realised that he was nearly yelling until he heard the Doc's calm voice.

"And Sam is unconscious at the moment?"

Dean took a deep breath running his hand roughly through his hair in agitation "He got pretty badly knocked around in the club and after the seizure I nearly took him to the hospital, but I'm not sure they can help him."

"No, you did the right thing Dean." said Hannah gently.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line and then he heard the Doc's exhalation of breath.

"Sam has his defences up high and hard Dean." Said Hannah, her voice even and calm "I'm not sure if that is because he sensed me trying to get to him or he is still under attack."

"What should I do Doc?" asked Dean almost pleading with her for guidance.

"I want to try something Dean. I have no idea if this will work, but I figure that we have nothing to loose."

"At this point Doc, I willing to try anything." confessed Dean.

"I'm going to try and get to Sam, through my connection with you, but you'll need to be in physical contact with him."

"Alright" said Dean slipping his free hand around his brother's wrist "I've got him."

"Here goes." said Hannah almost in a whisper.

Without understanding why Dean took a really deep breath and closed his eyes. He let his breath out slowly and waited. He had a moment of complete mental disorientation and then he felt Hannah. It was one of the strangest sensations that he had ever experienced in his life. It felt almost like she was standing in the room with him, but behind him outside of his field of visions. Her presence was so vivid to him, for a moment he thought he even caught a whiff of her perfume.

He hadn't realised just how much he had missed her, until he felt her with him. Her presence was like sunlight, warm and comforting and he felt himself physically relax. On the very edges of his consciousness he was aware of something else, but he couldn't quite latch on to it. It buzzed like a television set in another room, but it was unintelligible to him.

All he really felt and all he really focused on was the Doc and the way her energy seemed to caress him softly. This was an intimacy the likes of which Dean had never experienced before. He felt her in his blood, crawling around under his skin and deep within his consciousness and in that moment he understood what it would be like to never be lonely.

When he felt the energy waning, in a moment of mental panic he reached for it in an attempt to hold it to him, to savour the comfort that it bought him and for the briefest of seconds, he felt it flood him with warmth and then it was gone.

While he would never say it out loud, Dean felt bereft by its loss, to the point where he nearly wanted to cry, but the warmth of Sam's skin under his hand and the steady pulse that he felt beating there, bought his focus back and he quickly dismissed his own feelings, replacing them with concern for his brother.

"I think he is all right for the moment." said Hannah down the phone, her voice sounding strained and a little weaker than earlier.

"What's going on then Doc?" asked Dean

"I don't even know how to describe it to you Dean." She said on a sigh "I guess its sort of reminds me of artillery, likes he's under fairly random attacks so he's bunkered down and is waiting for the right moment to retaliate. He's also pulling his energy in really tight, so that when he makes his move, he'll come out swinging."

"How can I help him?" questioned Dean and again Hannah sighed realising that her answer was going to be decidedly unsatisfactory.

"You can't" she replied without hesitation. "The only thing that we can possible do to help him is to attack the demon's physical form. If its attention is divided then maybe Sam will have an opportunity to retaliate."

"We Doc?" questioned Dean. The word had stood out to him in the entirety of her sentence.

"I'm just on the web now, booking a flight out of Denver in the morning that will get me to Reno at about 10:30, then we'll tackle this bastard together. OK?"

"Alright Doc." said Dean feeling slightly defeated. He wasn't used to coming up against things that he wasn't equipped to deal with. He and Sam had always managed to find a way, but now it just seemed so much harder. His train of thought lead him to think about the colt that was sitting in the trunk of the impala.

"Hey" he said finally "I forgot to ask, how did you go with the Samuel Colt Journal?"

When she spoke, Dean could hear her smile in her voice "Well I was convinced enough of its legitimacy to buy it, but I had a flick through before I went to bed and I think it will take me a little while to decipher it. He wrote certain sections in a code."

Dean chuckled slightly "A bit like you do."

Hannah laughed also and again he could hear her smiling "A little bit I guess. The whole book reeks of arcana though, so I'm sure we can use it to look at the history of the gun you have."

"Well that will help, at least if we can get the colt operational I won't be so useless." He said trying to keep the tone light, but failing.

"Dean" said Hannah gently "If you hadn't gotten him out of that place, Sam could very well be dead right now."

"I know" said Dean "I'm just in a bit of new territory with all of this psychic stuff, usually we just get in there and get it done."

"Try and get some sleep, Dean. I'll be there tomorrow and we can get it done then."

"Alright" replied Dean hearing the defeat in his own voice.

"Promise me Dean" insisted the Doc "Promise me that you'll wait till I get there."

"It would seem I don't have any other choice now wouldn't it."

There was the briefest of hesitations on the other end of the line, and he heard the Doc sigh slightly.

"I'll call you in the morning before I get on the plane."

"Ok Doc" said Dean before he bid her goodnight and hung up the phone.

Dean looked down at where Sam lay almost motionless on the bed.

"Hell of a way to earn a living hey bro?" he said into the silence of the room, then he slipped off his jacket and stretched out on the bed opposite Sam's so that he could watch over his brother.

* * *

**Reno – 9:08am**

Dean sat next to his brother's bed, drumming his fingers in agitation. Since he had spoken with the Doc, Sam had experience several more seizures and Dean had the horrible sense that he was running out of time. He had moved a seat next to Sam's bed and he had taken up vigil over his brother. He knew that it was probably a useless gesture, but it was all he had to offer.

Every ten minutes or so he looked at his watch and clicked his tongue in agitation. The Doc wasn't due in for another hour or so and Dean was almost positive that Sam didn't have time to spare. He couldn't explain why he thought that, but his gut screamed at him to do something to help his brother.

As he went through the options in his head, a tentative knock sounded at the door of the hotel room. For a moment, Dean wondered if the Doc had managed to get here early some how, but when he opened the door, he saw the older woman from the front desk standing there with a package.

As he opened the door, the woman took a subtle step back, prompting Dean to wonder just what he looked like. The older woman held out a package to him.

"This arrived a minute ago and because it was express I thought I better get it to you right away. I hope I didn't wake you."

Dean tried to smile at the woman to reassure her, he must have looked really fierce, because she was eyeing him like one might watch a snarling dog. Thanking her he took the package out of her hands and he nodded before closing the door on her.

The package was the size of shoebox and was wrapped in brown paper. Dean tore the paper from the package and realised that there was a hard plastic box underneath, like the kind that sometimes carry flare guns. There were two latched on the box, that Dean flipped open, and when he opened the lid he saw a dagger, sitting in a bed of hard foam.

The dagger was perhaps 9 inches long and the handle was emblazoned with a red cross on a white shield. Dean wrapped his hand around the dagger and picked it up feeling the weight of the weapon. Slipping the dagger from its scabbard he realised that the blade was very old, but it was evenly weighted and the edge of the blade was keen.

He slipped the dagger back in the scabbard and picked up the letter that was attached to the lid of the box. Opening it he saw Adam's neat script. Just like the man, his writing was militaristically precise, every letter being writing in bold capital print.

The note described how the dagger was a relic from the crusades, rescued from Scotland from the last stronghold of the Knights Templar. Hannah had told Adam, that the energy of the knife suggested that it wielded its own arcane power and that it could possibly be used in the same way as the Colt. Although, Adam cautioned, in his note, that unlike the gun, the knife required one to get up close and personal with the demon.

Dean dropped the note back in the box and pick up the knife again turning it over in his hands. As he did so, his phone sprung into life.

Hastily he grabbed it and flicked it open.

"Doc?"

"I've been delayed Dean, I checked with the Desk and apparently it will only be for half an hour or so, but I thought I better let you know."

Dean cursed under his breath then he looked at the dagger in his hands, turning it over and over to study it.

"Sam doesn't have the time to wait Doc."

"Dean, I won't be that much later, please wait for me." She pleaded

"I'm sorry Doc, I can't. But I have the dagger you sent, I'll be fine."

"No…wait. Dean, I don't even know if it will….."

Dean couldn't listen to her pleading voice without feeling his resolve waver so he decided not to.

"Sorry." he said hastily disconnecting his phone.

He sheathed the knife and pushed it into the waistband of he pants and then he grabbed the keys off the side board and gave his brother one last look. His phone screamed to life a second time, but he knew it would be the Doc trying to talk him out of it, so instead of answering it, he simply switched it off.

"I'll be back soon Sammy." And with that Dean turned and left the darkened hotel room.

* * *

**Denver - 8:22am**

Hannah waited as her phone rang out. Swearing under her breath she tried dialling one more time, but without even having to hold the phone to her ear, she knew that she would get no answer.

Hannah went and sat in one of the large chairs in the first class lounge and considered her options. Given that she was in Denver and Dean was in Reno, her options were few.

She considered for a moment, trying to get through to Sam, but without Dean there to act as a conduit she doubted that she would be able to get through his defences. Hannah rubbed at her temples as he head began to throb in frustration. Dean had left her with no options; she could only pray that he could take care of himself. As she thought about this, her mind was filled with the image of Dean strung up naked and at the mercy of the murderous blonde and an impending sense of doom filled her.

Hannah sat back in the lounge chair and closed her eyes, as if in sleep. Then she reached out with her mind to try and find Dean. She might not be able to go with him physically, but she would be there with him none the less. She probably wouldn't be able to help him, but at the very least she would know what was going on and if her history had taught her anything is that the waiting could often be worse than the outcome.

* * *

**Reno – 9:38am**

After an almost reckless trip across town, Dean found his way to Record Street where the Wicked Club was. Unlike the night before, the street was now a hive of activity, with trains pulling up and forklifts doing a strange mechanical ballets in the yards of factories and warehouses. Dean found a park for the Impala and jumped out, vigilantly keeping an eye on all of those around. They all seemed completely disinterested in him, and kept on going about their business.

Rather than going in the heavy steel front door, which Dean realised he wouldn't have a hope in hell of breaking into, he decided he would try the back door, where the bouncers had 'escorted' he and Sam out.

Casually he walked down the street, until he was next to the security door. He looked at it a couple of times, to assess the security and the quality of the lock, and while both were fairly tight, John Winchester had taught him to get into tougher places than this.

Sliding the lock pick set from his pocket, Dean went to work on the lock. One of the many lessons that John had taught him was that quite often thieves got caught because they looked suspicious. If you make sure that your body language says that you have every right to be there, more often than not most people will ignore you. This is exactly what Dean did, occasionally jiggling the pick tools as if he was having problems with the key in the lock.

It was only a matter of seconds before Dean heard the internals of the lock click into place and the handle on the door turned freely admitting him into an area that must have been the loading dock for the club.

One side of the dock was filled with what appeared to be empty kegs, while the other side had a dumpster and a series of boxes piled up. Dean slipped down behind the boxes. He wanted to give himself some cover just in case anyone came along, but from where he stood, the place seemed to be disserted.

Dean moved through the dock, trying to recall where the bouncers had taken him and Sam, but at the time he had been far too worried about Sam to take notice of their route, up ahead, he saw a door, that he reasoned they must have come through, but he had no recollection of it.

Keeping to the shadows and to various piles of cover, Dean made his way over. He fully anticipated having to pick the lock there, but to his surprise the door was already open. He slipped inside and hurried down the corridor, taking note of every alcove and door that he might use if a quick escape was necessary.

Dean had no idea where he was going, if he were truly honest with himself he had no idea if the demon was even in here, but something in his gut told him to come and so he persisted. After all this was far better than sitting by and doing nothing to aid Sam. He was sick of feeling so helpless.

He guesstimated the distance that the bouncers had bought them down the corridor and he began looking for a door. To he surprise he noticed that each of the wall panels had a release latch on it, meaning that security could enter from any point along the length of the corridor, soundlessly and discreetly. Considering that there could be people in the corridors doing just about anything, he figured that had been purpose designed to disrupt as few people as possible. Dean let himself through one of the wall panels, and taking a quick look at the darkened hall beyond it, he recognised that he wasn't far from the voyeur's booth, where he and Sam had been nabbed.

He slipped out on stealthily feet and when he heard voices in a distant corridor, he flattened himself into an alcove where the shadows obscured him and waited patiently for the voices to either get closer or die away.

He waited soundlessly as time slipped by and down the corridor he heard the voices approaching him. One was a male voice speaking with great authority, the other was a voice he couldn't distinguish, but it was heavily accented.

"The last of our guests have been shown out, so the place is clear. Central is telling me that Tammy is with a private client, so don't worry about her rooms until later." said the disembodied voice from down the corridor.

"S_i Senor_" said the voice, the Spanish twang thickly curling the words "We will not start there until well after lunch"

Dean waited as the two passed him, pressing himself deeper into the shadows, and then on silent feet he followed them down the corridor watching as they casually walked completely oblivious to his presence. For some reason, keeping the only people he had seen in the whole place in sight, made him feel a lot better.

He slipped from alcove, to shadow, to corridor, listening to them speak of the mundane logistics of cleaning the club and maintaining the various rooms.

While he was alert and focused, in the back of Dean's mind he was slightly amazed at what people could get used to. The bouncer and the cleaner were discussing the cleaning of torture implements like it was nothing more than washing a car. Although when he thought about it, he and Sam spoke about hunting down ghosts and demons like that were rabid dogs, so he figured that it was really all relative.

He continued down the hall, following the cleaner and the security guard, he needed to find some way of figuring out where he was and discovering where the demon might be. He had briefly considered going into the voyeurs booths, but he felt sure that the Demon would probably still be in or around 'Wrath' and there just didn't seem to be enough cameras in that area to adequately look around.

He tried equating himself based on what he knew of the clubs layout from the 'Lust' bar, but the corridors and rooms behind the walls of the bar, were indeed a labyrinth, with hidden doors and switchback, almost purposely designed to addle any sense of directions one might have.

Ahead of him he saw the two he was following slit of down a fork in the corridor, he moved up cautiously as the corridor that they took, was different from the one he was in. It looked more like a corridor in a hospital with slightly yellowed overhead florescent lights. There would be no moving in the shadows down that direction, he would be out in plain site with no alcoves or exits to slip into should someone come along. He moved close to the fork in the two corridors as he debated the wisdom of going down that way.

As he stood in the shadows a subtle sent reached him, that made his head snap up…sulphur. As he stood close to the fork in the two corridors, he was almost sure that he could smell sulphur from the other side. Dean quickly abandoned any thought of going down the heavily light corridor and continued to follow the other fork, that like the corridor that he was already in was dark with a number of alcoves and shadowed areas to cover him.

As he walked, the smell of sulphur grew stronger and the hairs on his arms raised as a belt of cold air assaulted him from down the corridor. If Dean had any doubts about where the demon was before, they had all disappeared now. With the greatest of care, Dean unsheathed the dagger and twisting the handle in his grip, he lay the long blade along the length of he forearm. The last thing he wanted to have happened is to stumble across some security guard, who shot him for brandishing a knife. At least this way it was mostly concealed.

He moved cautiously as the scent of sulphur increased and he made sure that he searched out the deepest shadows with his eyes, moving into them only after he had studied them. He was close now he could sense it, but he had no idea where about, so he inched forwards with the greatest of care.

Dean never heard the wall panel behind him, he never saw the figure emerge out of the dark, but he sure as hell felt the long fingers that grabbed him from behind and thrust him against the wall.

Dean hit the wall with bone crushing force, the impact making him drop the dagger as he ricocheted off the wall to sprawl out at the demons feet. Dean looked up briefly to see what had attacked him and he saw the red booted Thammuz standing over him, with eyes that burned like hell fire.

Dean rolled away from the figure, and quickly got to his feet. He looked around for the dagger, but his heart fell as he realised that is a fallen away behind where Thammuz now stood, so to get to it, Dean had to go through the Demon. He took a moment to study the Demon, who was the strange androgenistic blend of both sexes.

Thammuz was tall, probably almost a tall as Sam. His….her…its face was almost strangely beautiful, with high chiselled cheek bones and full lips that had been painted in blood red lipstick. It had a long neck that had the telltale kink of an Adam's apple and flowed into a pair of the broad shoulders that would impress even a line backer.

It wore a black bustier and corset that pressed it large bosom together giving it a generous cleavage, whilst pulling in the demon at the waist. If that image was not enough, the thing that stood out for Dean was the thigh high red pvc boots, that covered the long stocking covered legs.

"My you are a pretty one aren't you." Thammuz purred, a taunting smile curving the blood red lips "You look like you could be a lot of fun to play with."

"I have my moments." quipped Dean, his brain going into overdrive as to what to do in the face of the demon.

Feeling like offence was the best defence; Dean lashed out taking a big swing at the demon's jaw. If he was lucky he would connect and hurt the monster, if he was unlucky and missed he may just cause the demon to back up just enough where he would be closer to picking up the knife.

Dean was under no illusion about what was going to happen. If he didn't get to the knife then he was dead and Sam would have no one to help him. Leaning back on its long legs, the demon easily dodged Dean's attack, and with preternatural speed, the demon caught Dean's fist and flung him into the wall on the other side.

Dean heard the air leave his lungs as he slammed against the wall, and his body dropped like a stone. He felt pain radiate throughout him and he was completely disorientated, but as he fell to the floor he felt words bouncing around his head, like the tune of an annoying song or jingle that gets stuck in your mind.

They weren't words that Dean recognised, they were in a completely foreign language for a start, but they persisted over and over until, Dean could do nothing but say them out loud. As soon as he voiced them, he recognised the sound of them; these were the words that Hannah had spoken back in Rhode Island.

As the demon leant over Dean, he saw a moment of surprise and hesitation in the creatures blazing eyes as it heard the words that he spoke. He was almost positive that there was surprise on his face too, but he kept speaking none the less. He did anything that would make the demon think of something other than ripping his throat out.

As he spoke, mentally he reached for the words and he recognised something he hadn't noticed before, he could feel the Doc with him, she had touched his consciousness and was now feeding him the arcane words that he needed. Dean tried to wriggle out from under the imposing form of the demon who had stopped still, crouching over him as soon as he had begun speaking, as if the very words themselves somehow hypnotised it.

Dean's voice grew stronger and his volume rose, he had a moment of elation where he thought that he may just get out of this yet, and then he heard the demon growl low in its chest and pull its long fingered hand back, before the blow caused darkness to come crashing in on him. As he lost consciousness he was aware of the ragged cry of a woman somewhere deep in his mind.

* * *

**Reno - 10:04am**

The first thing Dean was aware of the pain radiating out from his jaw. His body felt heavy and foreign to him, and there was a high pitched buzzing in his head. He tried to rub at his jaw only to realise that his hands were bound high over his head. Unable to move, he started to concentrate on the buzzing in his head and he realised it was a sense of panic, only it wasn't his own. He was still too disoriented to feel anything other than confusion, be he felt the panic and he processed it.

The more he focused on it, the more he realised that it was someone mentally calling his name, as if they were trying to rouse him from heavy sleep. He reached for it and had the mental image of mumbling to it, the same way, he grumbled at Sam, when his brother was trying to get him up in the morning.

He felt the wash of relief in his mind and it made him want to smile, but as he tried, he realised there was something in his mouth. He bit down briefly with his teeth and realised he had a bit gage in his mouth. That one fact sobered him rapidly and he opened his eyes.

He was in a darkened room that was barely lit by candles. He looked above his head to see that his hands had been shackled high above him, and he became aware that he could feel the movement of air in the room and he looked down to discover that he was naked.

He looked to his left and then quickly to his right as he brain sluggishly took in all of the information and then he spotted the demon as she straddled a man who was tied to a bed that had been sculpted in metal to resemble a spider's web. Dean's eyes narrowed on the demon as he heard her voice in a low husky caress.

"How much did you like that Dog?" she said her eyes looking up briefly to make contact with Dean's as if acknowledging that she knew he was awake and aware of where he was.

"Very much mistress" stammered the man on the bed, his voice breathless in delight.

"I don't believe you!" said the demon, all the while watching Dean as she upended a candle filled with hot wax on the man's abdomen.

Dean saw the man hiss in pain and his own stomach contracted in sympathy as he watched rivulets of wax get dangerously close to the man's groin.

"Honestly mistress." pleaded the man and Dean heard threads of fear in his voice. If only he knew what his fantasies had actually gotten him into he would be terrified.

"Am I the best that you have ever had?" asked the demon, her eyes drifting up to watch Dean's reaction at the answer.

"Absolutely mistress." said the man, his emphatics almost pleading.

The demon smiled, a sadistic smile that made Dean's stomach turn. This whole situation was building and Dean was positive that there would be no happy endings. He turned his eyes away as he saw the demon take the man's penis into that blood red mouth.

'Look up' he felt in his mind, repeated over and over like a mantra. He knew it was the Doc and in many ways he wanted to shield her from what was going on in front of him, but he needed her help, so he looked up. He looked at his wrists in the shackles that bound him, and without really thinking about it, he pulled on his wrists until he felt the metal bite into his skin and drops of blood began to run down his arm.

He ignored the conversing between the demon and the poor man that was captured in her bed and narrowed his focus on the shackles that bound him. He had the sense to keep looking at it, even when he felt the strange kind of pressure in the back of his head. While it didn't cause him pain it was unsettling, because his brain almost felt like it was suffering from pins and needles.

Dean wanted to close his eyes, but as soon as he did so he felt the protest clear in his mind, so he opened them up again and the strange pressure returned to his consciousness. He had no doubt that the Doc was trying to do something, but he had no idea what she was trying to do.

'How do I help you Doc?' Dean thought, hoping that somehow the Doc could pull out the message from his brain, but he got no response from her, so he just continued to look up at the shackles. As he looked up, he began to feel heat radiating down on his hands and face. Dean screwed his face up in confusion for a moment before he realised what the Doc was trying to do.

She was trying to weaken the links of the shackles that bound him, and the only way that she could do that was to heat them up, the only problem with that idea was that the shackles were wrapped tightly around Dean's wrists and he began to feel the metal there warm up. A moment of panic went through his brain, but he caught it quickly rationalising that there was going to be no other way out of this. He would have to endure it and he would have to do it silently or else he would tip his hand.

In the back of his mind he registered that the demon was making the man speak the name of Beleth and eliciting promises about what he was prepared to do in the name of Beleth, but a part of Dean's cynical mind had to make the observation, that any promise a man made while he was getting off, counted for exactly nothing.

Dean heard the man's final rapture and then he saw a rapid movement out of the corner or his eye. He looked at where the prone man lay under the demon, and noting with and increasing sense of rage that the hilt of a knife stuck out of his chest. There was a moment of gurgled disbelief in the man, before he finally died.

Dean felt his gut churn in impotent rage. That man had been guilty of nothing more that having a slightly twisted sex drive and he had died in a violent and horrible way, his soul condemned to hell. The demon looked up and seemed to be amused by Dean's indignation.

"I had to demonstrate for you the power that I have, so you understand what a powerful adversary you have in Beleth. I have maybe a dozen other little lap dogs that would do anything for me including die." said Thammuz as she as she reached over and pulled the bloodied knife out of the dean man's chest.

Thammuz, slid sensuously off the bed and walked over to Dean. He couldn't take his eyes off the demon, despite the instance in his head to return his eyes to where his shackles were.

"For some reason Beleth want's you in his service. I don't understand it myself, but he does. He wants me to offer you the choice of joining him or dying. Now we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way."

Dean tried not to wince as the demon dragged the knife tip up his thigh towards his scrotum.

"I'm kind of hoping for the hard way myself." said Thammuz all but purring at Dean as she applied greater pressure to the blade. Dean hissed between his teeth as felt the blade bite into his skin, but he never let his gaze waver off of Thammuz.

He felt the insistence in his head to look at his shackles, but he could not do it. The hunter in him could never take his eyes off of his prey, even if their roles had seemed to be reversed.

Thammuz, smiled slowly wetting her lips with a slow glide of her tongue. "Can I take your silence as an answer?" She said bringing her face close to Dean's as she ran the knife down his other thigh.

Dean worked hard to show nothing on his face. He could tell that his pain only exited the demon more and he was determined, that he would do nothing that would enhance this experience for the hellish beast.

Thammuz took a step back, shaking out the long blonde mane of hair. "I'm sure that in your travels you have probably heard of the death of a thousand cuts. Nearly every culture across the world has their version of it."

Thammuz, drew back the knife with deliberate slowness and ran the knife across Dean's exposed stomach. Dean bit down hard on the gag in his mouth and tried to calm his breathing as he compartmentalised the pain.

"In Eygpt" said the demon almost conversationally as it made another cut on Dean's exposed flesh "They would cut up a victim and then leave him by the Nile and then wait and see whether is was the maggots or the crocodiles that killed him first."

Dean's eye closed momentarily as he felt the knife bite into the flesh under his ribs, but when he opened them again, his rage only seemed to amuse Thammuz.

"In Span in the 14th century, they would use a highly sharpened rapier and make thousands of surgically clean cuts all over the body, then they would drop the victim in a bath of vinegar until he begged for death."

Dean snorted as his breath became ragged as he tried to push the pain out of his mind. He was loosing a lot of blood, he could feel it dripping on his bare skin and his head was starting to feel slightly light.

Thammuz put her face close to Dean's ear, licking the lobe briefly before whispering. "The Mongols in the time of Genghis Khan, would cut up a victim and then allow him to heal only to cut him again, they believed that the cutting of already scarred tissue was agonising."

She ran the knife across Dean's chest, the burning bite of the blade drawing a long and excruciating cut from his left nipple to the bottom of his ribs. Tears clouded in Dean's eyes as he bit down harder on the gag, half expecting the thing to shatter in his mouth under the pressure.

"This is my gift to the world." Said Thammuz "The ability to drive another human being past their tolerance for pain to get exactly what you want. Countries rose and fell on my gifts, battles were won and lost and great men were defined by how well they could metre out my gifts. What makes you and your little brother think that you can change what has been the way of the world for centuries?"

At the mention of Sam, Dean's eyes widened slightly and Thammuz smiled in recognition of the fraternal concern.

"Are yes…you're little brother. Don't for a moment think that I had forgotten about him. He suffers in his own way, but I have to confess, I do prefer getting up close to my victims."

Dean's face hardened into a mask of hatred. It was one thing to get his own arse handed to him, but nobody went after his little brother without answering to him first. Dean pushed all the pain aside, he quelled his emotions until his mind was focused on what he needed to do. It was at this point that he could hear Hannah in his head more clearly. He had been ignoring her pleas for him to look at his restraints, but he hadn't realised that she had stopped speaking, until he had quietened his own thoughts.

'I can't get you out Dean, so I'm going to attack it with everything I have. As soon as I do, call out for Sam with your mind, he'll know you're in need and he'll attack then too'

Dean almost felt the urge to nod to try and let the Doc know that he understood what she was asking of him, but he restrained himself, not wanting to telegraph anything to the demon. Dean felt the familiar odd tingle in his mind again, but he did not fight it, if anything he focused on keeping his eyes on Thammuz.

The pressure welled up within him, he not only felt it in he mind, but in his lungs and at the pit of his stomach, the hairs on the back of his head stood up on end and his skin broke into goose bumps all over. He felt full, like his body would break apart at anytime, but he kept his composure and his eyes on the demon.

Thammuz, drew her hand back to cut into Dean again, but before the knife met his flesh, she stopped as if she sensed something different about her victim. Her head tilted to the side inquisitively and she watched Dean with growing interest.

This was the sign that the Doc had been waiting for, and with it she let all of the energy that she had been building up within Dean loose. Dean had the sensation for a moment that he was being turned inside out, but he was able to put that out of his mind as he saw Thammuz being tossed across the room and striking the wall on the far side with such force that she became imbedded in the dry wall.

Dean mentally called for Sam, and immediately he felt the presence of his brother. Thammuz's eyes were blood red when they looked accusingly at Dean, but it was only for a moment, in the next heartbeat Thammuz was sent flying across the room in the other direction. Her arms and leg flailed helpless as she was tossed across the room and Dean was certain that he heard bones break when she struck the other wall.

Thammuz's body slid down the wall in a crumpled heap and then Dean felt the temperature in the room drop, a preternatural wind, circulated around the room, blowing out all of the candles and plunging the room into complete darkness, and then Dean watched in horror as a light hovered over where Thammuz lay.

Dean knew it was Sam, he could feel the violence and anger within it that he had started associated with Sam. When Sam lost his temper now days, he was truly a terrible thing.

Lightning seemed to play under Thammuz's skin as a high pitched wailed, escaped from its blood red mouth. Dean watched as all of Thammuz's bones seemed to take on the appearance of a glowing light. He could see a dirty malformed creature being dragged out of the body, but it clawed at the illuminated bones, desperately trying to find some purchase, but it was no use, Sam had struck when the demon was vulnerable and when push came to shove, Sam was more powerful.

The room was plunged into sudden darkness all sound stoping in an instant. Dean listened for a few moments, straining his ears for any signs of life, but the only sound he could hear was his own ragged breathing. Dean let his head fall forward, letting the pain that he had been sidelining fill him. Even as he embraced the pain that meant he was alive, he was filled with the sense that Sam was on his way.

He felt a sense of relief at that, he also felt a strange sense of awe, that in all of this, he had merely been a conduit for the powers of others. The Doc and Sam were obviously far more powerful than he ever could have anticipated. As he thought of those others, he tried to sense the Doc, but he could feel nothing. He would have to ring her and apologise, he had been reckless and impetuous and he had no doubt now that she would be the one who paid for it.

* * *

**Denver – 10:13am**

The paramedics rushed into the business class lounge where the passengers waiting for the delayed flight to Reno had all gathered around. Slightly roughly one of the paramedics, pushed the bystander out of the way asking all of them to stand back in a tone that rebuked an argument.

"What happened?" asked one of the paramedics to the airport ground staff who had started CPR on the woman who appeared to have collapsed.

"I don't know" said the woman in a uniform, who moved aside as the other paramedic took her place massaging the woman's heart.

"One moment she looked like she was asleep in that chair, the next thing I know she is having some kind of fit and blood is coming from her nose and eyes."

"Did she complain of any pain or anything?" asked the other paramedic, who had placed a breath bag over the woman's bloodied face.

"She didn't say a thing." responded the male staff member who still held the breath mask that he had used to resuscitate the woman in his hand.

"Why is she bleeding like that." asked one of the other passengers who was looking over the paramedics shoulder "She doesn't have one of those horrible diseases does she?"

The two paramedics exchanged furtive glances and then looked at the airport staff for support. With a new job to do, both of the staff members stood, ushering the other passengers away from where the paramedics where trying to help the woman.

"Alright" said the paramedic who had taken over the heart compressions, pressing a stethoscope to the fold in the woman's arm. "I've got a pulse but it is weak. We've got to get her out of here."

"Alright" replied his partner "You get the gurney and I'll watch over her."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**326-Days**

**Reno – 11:13am**

Dean was unsure exactly how long he had been hanging there when he heard the commotion in the hall outside the room where he was. His arms arched with a burning tenacity as the shackle bit deeper into his wrists. He had lost a lot of blood and he fought to stay conscious, even though every instinct pushed him to accept peaceful oblivion.

The door to the room flew open, but all he saw was the piercing glare of a flashlight. Dean tensed his protesting muscles, there wasn't much that he could do with his hands shackled like this, but he was damn sure that he wouldn't go down without a fight. The light skirted across his body and he immediately knew that he had been detected.

"Dean!"

Sam's voice came to Dean's ears like an answered prayer. As he looked towards the source of the light, the candles in the room all sparked to life, filling the dishevelled room with a soft eerie light.

Sam looked down briefly at the body on the floor at his feet, before he moved quickly over to his brother's side. Dean watched Sam as he came close and he noted the pallor of his brother's face and the dark heavy circles under his eyes. What Sam had done had cost him, but he was still fairing slightly better than Dean.

Sam put a supporting arm around his brother's waist helping him take the weight of his body off his suspended arms, while Sam worked out how to undo the shackles. As Sam released one arm, agony ripped through Dean as the arm dropped limply over his brother's shoulder. As Sam released the other arm, Dean fell heavily against his brother unable to support himself on his own legs.

Sam lowered him gently to the ground reaching around to undo the gag that was now nearly choking Dean.

"Hey Sam." said Dean once the gag had been removed; his voice was rasping and racked with pain.

"Hey Dean" replied Sam "How you doing?"

"Well I've been better." Dean hissed as Sam inspected the many wounds across his brother's body.

Sam hurried over to the bed and ripped a section off the bed spread, noting the body tied in cruciform upon it. He returned to his brother and started tearing the linen into long strips, which he used to try and stem the bleeding.

As Sam dressed his wounds, Dean clenched his death and hissed air out between them as he tried to stay conscious in spite of the pain.

"That'll have to do until I can get you back to the motel." said Sam inspecting his field dressing.

"Find me some clothes would you." asked Dean, making a Herculean effort and pushing himself up on his elbows.

Sam looked around the room, and realised that Dean's clothes had been discarded not far from where he had been strung up. He hurried over and picked up the pile of clothes, noting the dagger that had been dropped on top of them.

"Here you go." replied Sam as he helped his brother get into them. Dean looked like he might pass out at any moment, but he tenaciously fought the impulse.

Sam helped Dean to his feet, taking most of his brother's weight across his broad shoulders.

"Let's get out of here." he said, before he began half dragging Dean to the door.

The brother's paused at the broken body of Thammuz, looking down at it. The creature's eyes had suffered seriously haemorrhaging so they were now blood smeared orbs. Its limbs sat at unnatural angles to its torso and its blood red lipstick had been smeared across its face. To be honest it looked more like a broken marionette than a human being.

"Tel me you got him Sam." said Dean looking down with distain at the twisted shell of his tormentor. He knew in his rational mind that what he was looking at was just a shell, some poor lost soul who had become a puppet in a horrible pantomime, but he couldn't help the bile that crawled up his throat at the very sight of it.

"I got him." said Sam solemnly as he urged his brother away from the body.

Sam helped Dean out into the corridor, and as soon as he had a look around he saw bodies littered down the hall.

"You do this?"

"Yep" replied Sam curtly.

"They dead?" asked Dean as he recognised the faces of some of the security guards that had 'evicted' them the previous night.

"No" said Sam, his voice hard "But when they wake up, they may wish they were."

"Ain't payback a bitch." said Dean with a grim smile of satisfaction as he 'accidentally' trod and kicked the bodies as he walked over them.

Sam led him down the corridor and turned the corner towards the inner part of the club.

"Where are you going?" questioned Dean.

"I'm getting us out of here." replied Sam slightly bemused.

"Why don't you use the back door?" questioned Dean.

"There's a back door?"

"Oh right" said Dean as realisation dawned on him "You were unconscious at that point weren't you."

Sam looked at his brother for a moment and allowed a strained smile to cross his face, he would rather not recall what had happened that had lead to that state of unconsciousness.

"How did you get in then?" questioned Dean, allowing Sam to take the lead.

"Through the front door." replied Sam as if he thought that the answer was completely obvious.

"You broke in through the front door?" asked Dean incredulously; beginning to believe that he had severely underestimated Sam's powers.

"No" said Sam "Daphne let me in."

Dean laughed in spite of his pain. "You must have made one hell of an impression with that one."

"What can I say?" said Sam nonchalantly; trying desperately to hide the concern he had for his brother "I'm a hell of a kisser."

"I'll have to take your word for it bro."

Sam pushed through a door, and suddenly Dean realised where he was. The 'Lust' bar was still dimly lit but now it was deserted, all except Daphne who sat at the bar having what looked to be a casual drink.

"I'm glad you found your brother." She said taking a seductive sip of her drink.

"I left a bit of a mess back there." Confessed Sam, unsure why, but feeling like he needed to give the woman who had aided him something of an explanation.

Daphne simply shrugged her unclad shoulder casually.

"You kill anyone?" she asked with unnerving ease.

"The blonde transvestite." replied Sam, surprised by his own candour. "She had killed one guy already and she was going to kill my brother."

Daphne smiled at him and then took a long languid sip of her drink. "Good riddance to bad rubbish" she said vehemently "I always hated that bitch."

"I'm sorry "said Sam, easing himself and Dean towards the door. "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble."

"No trouble here sweetheart." said Daphne as she seductively slid off the stool, her bare breasts and the nipple rings that pierced them sway slightly at her movement. "If there is something that we have learnt well here at Wicked, it's how to tidy up a mess. You better go take care of your brother before he bleeds all over my carpet."

Sam smiled at the woman that he found strangely endearing, in spite of her strange lifestyle choice. "Thanks" he said sincerely.

"No" she said holding the heavy door open for the brothers "Thank you."

Sam and Dean struggled up the narrow staircase and emerged out on the busy alley. Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that Sam had the presence of mind to move the Impala round to the front of the club and park it in the alley.

Sam helped Dean around to the passenger's side and eased his brother in, then jogged around to the driver's seat and headed out of the area without even a backwards glance. The sooner he could put distance between himself and that hellish club the better.

* * *

She watched as the rear lights of the Impala disappeared out of view a slight smile on her lips.

"They didn't destroy Thammuz you know?" said her companion with a note of derision in her voice.

"They were never going to." She replied in a tone disparate from the image of the elfin little girl that she was. "But banished back to hell is just as good."

"He is getting better." mused the little girl ignoring the look of distaste on her teenage companion's face "Stronger, more agile."

"I'm stronger." protested her companion.

"That you might be." Conceded the tiny girl "But you won't have his control until you're older."

"So, if you can see that I'm stronger, then why don't you let me go after Beleth?"

"You're strong." Replied the child in a slightly sing song voice. "But you are not that strong. To defeat Beleth, we'll need to put in a team effort."

"He'd never come over to our side." said the taller girl, walking off down the alley in the same direction as the Impala had gone "Not when he has his brother."

"You're absolutely right." said the little girl, quickening her steps to catch up with her older counterpart "What we need to do is find the right motivator."

"I take it you already have?" said the girl as she lengthened her steps to make the smaller child hurry more.

"You're learning well." whispered the child as she scurried to keep up.

* * *

**Reno – 11: 40am**

Sam had helped Dean into the hotel and laid him down on the bed. He had meant to get to work on properly dressing his wounds, but Dean had taken one look at his brother and told him to lie down. Sam seemed to be getting paler by the moment, and the field dressings that he had already done were holding up well in the interim.

Dean picked up his cell phone switching it on. As he expected there were two missed calls, both coming from the Doc's phone. Clearing them from the phones memory, he pulled up the Doc's number and dialled. The phone rang for a long time, before he heard the Doc's voicemail kick in. Dean wanted to leave a message, but as he heard the final beep, he had no idea what he wanted to say, so he merely hung up. He closed his eyes folding his hand over his face to try and relieve the ache in his arms.

His wrist were burning like they were on fire and every wound on his body was reminding him that it was there.

"Dude, let me get you some pain killers or something." said Sam groggily "Your projecting so much, my wrists are starting to hurt.

"Alright" said Dean acutely aware that he didn't want Sam to suffer any more on account of him.

Sam got up and bought back a couple of aspirin with a glass of water. He helped Dean take a couple, and then he took a couple himself and stretched out again on the bed.

"Sam" said Dean quietly, still debating whether or not he should ask any more of his brother.

"Yeah" replied Sam

"I can't get on to the Doc and I want to make sure that she's alright."

"What are you asking me Dean?" questioned Sam on a long sigh.

"I just want you to see if you can get in touch with the Doc…that's all."

"I can't do that." said Sam with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Please" pleaded Dean "She helped save my life."

"Dean you don't understand. She'll never let me get clo…."

Dean interrupted before Sam could speak any further "When you were unconscious, she was able to tell me what was going on with you, through your connection to me. Can't we do the same thing in reverse?"

"Alright" said Sam rolling over to look at his brother "I'll give it a try. But don't expect me to do this again Dean."

Sam held out his hand and so did Dean, the brother's linking their hands in a tight grip. Sam closed his breath and fought down his own fatigue, to centre his thoughts and reach out for Hannah. He thought of her and felt Dean reaching for her in the same way that the older Winchester had called for Sam in the middle of the battle.

Sam had to push down a small wave of jealously, but he did so trying hard for the sake of his brother. He reached until he felt pain in his head, but there was a complete absence of her. No presence, no defences…nothing.

Sam let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"I'm sorry" he said to Dean "I'm not getting anything."

Dean gave his hand a slight squeeze where they were still joined.

"Thanks for trying though." he replied, his voice thick with disappointment.

The brother's lay in silence not speaking for a long time until sleep finally took both of them.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

**324-Days**

**Denver – 2:23pm**

Hannah never took her eyes off the white clad figure as it walked out of the room. She felt hollow, like someone had come and scooped all of her emotions, all of her senses all of her reason right out of her.

Adam waited nervously at the door as the doctor passed him.

"When did you get in?" she asked with a small smile beckoning him to come in.

"A couple of day's ago." said the old Marine, his gruff voice solemn "They called me when you were admitted."

"Sorry about that. I must have listed you as my next of kin." She said not meeting the older man's eyes.

The truth was, she didn't really want to see the old marine, but she could feel concern radiating off of him, so she quelled her own desires in an effort to assuage him.

"Don't apologise for that Hannah." he said almost gruffly "I'm glad they called."

The old marine studied her evasive body language with a hawk eye as an awkward silence stretched out between them.

"What did the doctor say?" He asked studying how she toyed with the heart monitor that was clipped on to her finger.

"Nothing, I didn't already know." She said quietly

"Not going to discuss it with me are you?" Adam asked gruffly

"No Adam. I'm not. It's nothing that hasn't happened before and I'm sure it will happen again before this war is over." She replied trying to sound non-chalant, but deep down she knew this was different. This had never happened to her before, and it filled her with fear of what would happen, if she was weakened to the point where the darkness inside her could break through her defences.

"Dean's been calling almost on the hour every hour." Adam reported this last bit of news like he was making a field report to a commanding officer. It seemed that he had taken her refusal to discuss her medical history as a personal affront.

Hannah sighed. She couldn't really deal with this now. Not with protecting Adam's feelings and she felt far too raw to even contemplate dealing with Dean.

"I know." She said softly. She had looked at her phone before the doctor had come in and discovered 23 missed calls all from Dean's phone.

"He's really worried. In fact he's on his way here now." said Adam studying his reaction.

Hannah's head snapped up at that and the hollow feeling deep within her was filled with dread. If she couldn't bear talking with him, seeing him in the flesh was completely out of the question.

"When he calls again." She said trying to make her voice even "Could you please tell him that I'm fine and not to worry. I'm going to be out of here this afternoon."

"What? They're discharging you?" asked Adam in surprise.

"No" Hannah said putting on a face of logical calm as she anticipated Adam's arguments "I am going to discharge myself. The war goes on and there are some very important things that I need to do."

Adam was about to argue, but it looked as if his absolute shock had robbed him of every rational thought.

"Besides" she said quickly before he could say anything more "I need you to get back to the cottage to protect the books. Something's coming….something big."

"Are you out of your God damn mind!" Adam all but exploded, pulling himself up to his full height so that he could tower over her.

"Please Adam, I'm not up to arguing this with you. I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't important." Hannah said wanly in the face of his anger.

Hannah watched as Adam reigned in his anger. The older man watching her with eyes that were barely slits. It felt for a moment like her was looking into her very soul, but after a long moment, she felt him relent on a long winded sigh.

"Alright" he said his voice showing his disapproval in spite of his words. "I'll arrange for the discharge papers to be bought in, and I'll be on a flight back to the cottage this evening…Happy?"

"Thank you Adam." said Hannah reaching out to encircle the older man's wrist. She felt for the man. She had become the closest thing to family that he would ever have and concern was not an emotion that the old soldier was at all comfortable with.

He walked out of the room without saying another word, and Hannah felt a slight sense of guilt for the relief that flooded her. Hannah sat in silence for a long moment pulling her self into a tight ball. She didn't just draw her knees close in to her chest; she pulled all her energy around her so that it cocooned her for a moment, protecting her from all the powerful emotions and activity that was synonymous with hospitals.

She needed a bit of time to think through what had happened to her, to study it, rationalise it and archive it appropriately as was her way. But somehow her logical mind, would just not engage.

Hannah felt heartsore, slightly lost in all the white sterility of her room. She lay her head on her knees and did something that she had not done in a very long time…she wept.

* * *


End file.
